He said, She said
by twitchytwain
Summary: AU/AH: Sparks fly when two journalists with opposing views work on a heated column in NYC. Damon's a sharp, funny, quick witted liberal and Bonnie's tough, cynical and conservative. FICTIONAL NAMES USED FOR CERTAIN POLITICIANS.
1. Transition

It wasn't Newsweek and it certainly wasn't the Times magazine but it was a job, something she definitely needed after spending the better part of a year fixed behind a laptop blogging about British politics. Bonnie had enjoyed the break, no fascist's boss directing her every move, no accounting for her week's labour during Monday morning staff meetings and best of all, no censorship. She'd been particularly thrilled at the lack of expurgation when she'd published her interview with Glen Jenvey about the bombings in London. The blog had been a challenging, laborious exercise but after moving back to New York she felt like she needed to sink her teeth into the meatier issues concerning the U.S.

Thumbing through the glossy pages of TIMES magazine, she kept glancing up at the closed office door as she waited for another candidate to finish his interview. They were taking too long, what were they doing in there? Quickly, she crossed her right leg over her left leg and then back again. She finally resigned herself and leaned her head against the dark leather chair, plucking the dimpled buttons on the armrest with her manicured nails. She was in the process of examining her nails when the office door swung open. A timid little man shuffled out followed by a rugged looking gentleman in a crisp white shirt and denim jeans. Bonnie's brow arched involuntary, her lips tightly pursed as she took in the editor's image. Quickly, she rose from the chair and gathered her things as the candidate made a last appeal for the position with a firm handshake.

"Are you the next candidate?" the tall brunette asked, quickly accessing her with his blue eyes.

"Bonnie Bennett," she boldly thrust out her hand and felt his long, elegant fingers clasp around her dainty palm. He stalled momentarily, struck by the black and white union jack cufflinks on her crisp white shirt. Bonnie flinched; wondering if her new flare for the whimsical would pay off. She caught a glimpse of the ghost of a smile toying with his lips.

"Alaric Saltzman" he smiled politely, signalling to a chair in the middle of the room. Bonnie strolled in, her green eyes darting around the office, lingering on the floor to ceiling arched window behind his massive desk. Slowly, she settled into the leather chair, thrust her chin and squared her shoulders. She wanted to project an air of calm and confidence even if the butterflies were waging a war inside her stomach.

"Do you mind?" he asked, unravelling his blue silk tie and sliding it beneath his collar. He tossed it on the expansive mahogany desk littered with newspaper cut-outs, copies of _Whitmore_ magazine and a forest of empty coffee-mugs.

"I can never get used to these things" he apologised sheepishly. He looked more like a studious rock climber who could bend nature to his will rather than an editor for a political magazine. But then again Che Guevara had looked like nothing more than a rebel and yet he had left his imprint.

"Why do you want to work for Whitmore magazine?" Alaric asked, pushing a plate of wilted Waldorf salad away from him before straightening his posture.

"Well, I like your slogan for one, "she confessed, clasping her hands over her right knee "undressing politics! I love that the magazine feels fresh and accessible to the lay-man on the street and I love that you go beyond traditional news and publish articles about events missed by mainstream media. I know that I can be a great asset in steering the magazine to greater heights"

"You've obviously had a look at our articles, anything that springs to mind as your favourite?"

"I liked the article about immigration policies," she pursed her lips, her eyes flitting to the salt and pepper curls tickling his temples "that's something that's quite close to my heart at the moment."

Alaric raised his eyebrows, tapping an index finger against his temple as if sensing that her eyes had lingered there before drifting down to the nerve pulsing around his collar bone.

"I've been in New York for four months and I can honestly say that as diverse in culture as this great city is, there's still some sort of elitism from the natives. Something the implants can never understand" she paused, lifting her chin a fraction, "my mother is from Somalia, she found asylum in New York when she was still very young"

He nodded, acknowledging her story before he asked, "Why did you get into the field?"

"I've been a writer ever since I can remember. It's something I inherited from my mother and I've always been in love with the idea of telling a story, capturing an audience. The first time I realized that I could move an audience was during an oral presentation in my high school English Class."

"I got up to speak and my teacher simply said, everyone keep quiet, this is gonna be really good" she chuckled, animating with her hands, "I knew then that if I could move someone with my words, I had something special because words and ideas can move a nation"

Alaric nodded, thumping the keys on his keyboard and Bonnie craned her neck only slightly to see what had arrested his attention so much on his laptop screen.

"I see you went to Oxford Law" he read from the screen.

"Class of two thousand and seven" she pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, smoothing back her pin-straight hair. It teased her shoulders and she pondered if it wouldn't have been better to tie it up for the interview.

"Let's see that would make you…" he narrowed her eyes at her, drumming his fingers on the desk.

"Twenty-eight" Bonnie smiled, heaving a great sigh, "I'm not one of those females who're ashamed about their age, Mr Saltzman"

"Please call me Alaric" he smiled, leaning his head against his high chair, fingers twirling a pencil," and what brings you back to New York, you miss the subway rats?"

"My mother, "she spoke, alarmed at how much she was revealing about herself. "I'm here for my mother" she said sucking in a shaky breath.

"Tell me, do you work well under pressure?" he asked, studying her intently.

"I'm a journalist" Bonnie replied matter-of-factly.

"I'd like you to write an article on gun-control and submit it by this afternoon" he announced and Bonnie's jaw tightened as a tremor ran through her. She had to attend her mother's book reading and that hardly gave her time to get in the zone to write an article.

"And don't give me some glib, diplomatic view on gun-control. I want you to take a stance, give me something meaty and something that reveals the real you" Alaric pointed at her and she tilted her head in attempt to look fearless and composed.

"I get it; you want me to bleed my thoughts on paper" she said and Alaric laughed as if he were amused by a child.

"Not just your thoughts, Bonnie. Journalism is about heart. I want color, I want emotion. I want Bonnie Bennett in that high school English class" he said, holding her gaze and she swallowed hard, her mind already reeling with ideas for the article.

"Tell me a bit more about yourself?" he asked the general interview question as the air sizzled around them. Slowly, Bonnie steadied her breathing and trained her eyes back on him. She practiced a smile and began telling him about her Oxford days, the debate team, squash tournaments and then finally about her tenure at the Spectator and how much she learned from the veterans at the paper. His tone remained polite and warm as she spoke at length about her ambitions and as her nerves slowly dissolved so did the time. Before she realized, the interview was over and she was shaking Alaric's hand again.

"I'll be waiting for your article, "he said, directing her out of his office. Bonnie glanced over her shoulder looking at the office again, her eyes flying over the claret Moroccan rug and a bookshelf stuffed with first edition literature.

"Thank you, Mr. Saltzman" she nodded, brushing past him.

"Alaric, "he quickly corrected as he lingered on the threshold of his office. Bonnie felt the lick of his gaze as she strutted down the corridor toward the elevators. She really hoped he would call about the position.

..

"Here I am, writing South Asia Daily and he's busy interviewing for a position that he knows I'm a shoe-in for" Damon tore a scrap of paper from his notebook and crumpled it up into a ball in his hand.

"At least you're not writing Friday's flash points" Enzo huffed, rolling his eyes.

"Look at him, strutting around like he owns the place" Damon threw the crumpled piece of paper into a garbage can a few feet from him. Pleased that the ball of paper had found its mark, his mouth twitched into a smirk as his eyes drifted back to Alaric standing at the threshold of his office. He was watching his latest interviewee as she strutted down the hallway and Damon could barely see her beyond the sleek dark hair cascading down her back.

"I hear he landed an interview with a presidential candidate of Lebanon" Enzo offered, folding his arms over his chest.

"Probably to discuss the political void left by…uhm… what's his name again?" Damon shook his head, eyes narrowed as they stayed fixed onto his boss.

"And you call yourself a journalist" his friend Enzo smirked again as he took his seat. The show was over and it was time to get back to work.

"The fact that he writes articles about the middle-east and he doesn't know the name of Lebanon's former president is shocking" Katherine yelled, striding inside Enzo's cubicle and looking over at Damon inside his own separate cubicle.

"Scary" Enzo smiled and gave her a once over in her gray pencil skirt and draped, silk blouse.

"Still can't believe that parliament could not elect a president" she mused and picked up a bottle of water from Enzo's littered desk, opened it and took a hearty sip.

"Be glad you're an American citizen, my friend" Damon called over the walls of his cubicle before taking steps towards Enzo's cubicle. His gaze locked onto a yellow dress as he stepped out.

"Hey Rookie, come over here" he signalled the brunette over and she stalled before giving him a shoulder shrug.

"Hi, my name's Davina Claire by the way" she told him, a copy of Times magazine tucked under her arm.

"Right, you ready to get to work?" Damon ignored the fact that she was trying to be taken seriously and sized her up.

"Yeah, I'm ready" Davina cleared her throat, her eyes darting between him, Enzo and Katherine.

"Great because I have an assignment for you" Damon told her and she parted her lips to say something but decided against it.

"I would like a sesame-seed bagel with cream cheese, an onion bagel with cream cheese and a toasted bagel with veggie cream cheese" Damon gave the order and waited for Enzo to retrieve the money from his wallet.

"You want me to go get you a bagel?" Davina's eyes widened, mouth slack as she glared at Damon.

"No, I want you to get three bagels. You got to pay attention, rookie"

"Will that be a problem?" Katherine cocked an eyebrow, taking another sip of water.

"No" Davina shook her head, watching as Enzo set his coffee mug aside to hand her the money. She took the bills and crumpled them inside her hand.

"Thank you" Enzo smiled at her as Damon ushered her out of the cubicle with a slap on her back.

"Hey, a few of us are taking bets around the watering hole for a Taylor season. You guys wanna get in on the action?" Jeremy Gilbert suddenly burst into the cubicle, waving around a baseball cap with a wad of money.

"Who would vote for David Taylor?" Damon shook his head incredulously.

"Who wouldn't?" Jeremy wrinkled his nose and looked at Damon like he'd just told everyone that Santa didn't exist.

"Christ, Taylor running this country is scarier than Idi Amin ruling Uganda" Damon cried, picking up a pencil from Enzo's desk.

"Then you better put your money where your mouth is my friend" Jeremy persisted with his teasing much to Damon's annoyance and then Katherine broke in with her sharp wit and flirtatious smile.

"I am officially buying the first round of drinks tomorrow night" she said, setting her ass down on the edge of Enzo's desk.

"Are we playing the GOP drinking game?" Enzo smiled broadly at her and she ruffled his hair and sang an annoying,

"You know it"

"Which bar?" Damon asked, checking his watch.

"Miguel" Katherine sang again and mock checked her pencil skirt for cash before shrugging at Jeremy.

"Isn't that a Mexican place?" Enzo asked.

"Yup, good times"

"You can have tequila every time Taylor says Mexico" Damon chuckled, glancing at his friend.

"And you can take a shot anytime someone says lives matter" Katherine broke in with a wide grin.

"I don't care what y'all say; Taylor has created jobs in the private sector" Jeremy voiced and all three looked up at him as though they were surprised that he was still present.

"Hey, no one is patronizing Taylor's campaign. In fact he could be the Republican's Trump card" Damon calmed him down but was summarily interrupted when Alaric's assistant leaned against the entrance and cleared her throat.

"Hey, Salvatore. Ric wants you in his office" she said, her eyes darting to all parties inside the crammed cubicle.

"Hi, Vicky" the group greeted, eyes lit up as they took in her scanty outfit.

"I'm free tonight" she whispered to Damon once they were out of earshot.

"No can do" he shrugged and shook his head.

"Come on, it's been weeks. I miss you" Vicky was relentless, making a grab for his ass, "I still have that nurse's outfit you like"

"I'm _really_ gonna have to pass"

"If you change your mind-"she sang, twirling her hair as they reached Alaric's office.

"If I change my mind It'll be the alcohol calling."

He gave Alaric's open door a soft tap before walking inside.

"Hey buddy, take a seat" Alaric said, motioning to the chair in front of him.

"I want you to write an article for me" he announced before Damon had barely settled.

" _You_ want _me_ to write an article for you?"

"Your subject is gun-control and I need it on my desk by the close of business today" he shared and picked up a fresh cup of coffee from his desk.

"You know there's no close of business because news never sleeps and neither do we" Damon reminded him, his eyes narrowed at Ric in an attempt to read him.

"Touché but just write the article, buddy"

"Is this about the shooting in a movie theatre in Tennessee?"

"This is about a current affairs issue" he corrected and took another swallow.

"Are we gonna talk about the elephant in the room?" Damon cleared his throat, shifting in his seat.

"Are we talking about Republicans?" Alaric raised an amused eyebrow at his reporter and friend.

"Cute. No, we're talking about the parade of interviewees that have been coming out of your office like hookers in Vegas" Damon smirked, leaning back against the chair.

"Why don't you leave the hookers to me and focus on the article"

"You got it" Damon gave him a thumb's up as he got up to leave Alaric's office.

..

The apartment was her old childhood home. Her mother signed it off to her after the divorce as a sign of her love and devotion. It was also to appease her guilt since she never saw Bonnie after remarrying Atticus Shane. Entering the kitchen, she plucked out a bottle of chardonnay from the floor to ceiling built in wine rack and put it inside the double-door metallic refrigerator. Then after pulling out another half-empty bottle of wine from the fridge, she poured herself a glass and looked around the kitchen at the butcher-block island lined with backless yellow leather barstools. She had an article to write, an article that would cement her position as a columnist at the magazine. Every article she wrote was like a plight to prove that she had the stuff to be called a journalist. Women had it harder because journalism was still a male dominated field but she was ready to slay dragons.

She parked herself on a barstool with her laptop opened on the wooden counter in front of her and started writing. Three hours later as she broke off a piece of naan bread and dipped it into her sauce, she sat back in her chair and hit submit. It took her a while but eventually she rose from her chair, took a shower and traded her comfy socks for a pair of mirrored Jimmy Choo sling-back pumps.

..

A wave of heat struck her face the minute she left her Park Avenue apartment, and then came the onslaught of smells from the food trucks lining the sidewalks. She was slowly getting accustomed to the New York weather. She liked the crisp spring mornings, the flush of warmth come afternoon and the dazzling twilights that painted everything purple. Shielding her eyes against the gash of dim sunlight streaming between tall, gaunt skyscrapers, she shrugged into her spring coat. Bonnie weaved through a boisterous crowd of frat boys in fancy suits trolling the neighbourhood for a lively bar and she passed a couple walking their Labrador before she finally thrust out her hand to hail down a cab.

Dashing inside the taxi, she quickly glanced at her watch then scratched through her clutch for the program. She was attending a speech about the eradication of female genital manipulation and the speaker was Abby Bennett, her mother.

"476 on fifth, "Bonnie instructed the cabbie, settling into the tattered leather bench. She picked up her mother's book and leafed through the pages as the taxi rushed down towards Fifth Avenue.

..

When she arrived at the New York library, the conference had already started. She took off her coat, threw it over her arm then searched around for an empty seat.

"There is no honour in female circumcision, "Abby spoke, straightening the microphone as graphic images flashed behind her on the monitor. She clicked the remote to show a new slide and Bonnie dropped her head and rubbed the back of her neck with her hand. The graphic images were sending shivers up her spine and as unflinching as she was, she just couldn't stomach them.

"There is no right of passage, "her mother continued, her voice going up a notch, "but this monstrous act of brutality is still practiced through out various countries in Africa, including Somalia"

"I am a victim of genital manipulation, I am a victim of this slaughter and this book serves to illustrate this crime against humanity, this offence against our rights as women" her voice swelled with emotion as she held up her autobiography.

"We need to break the silence, ladies and gentlemen, "she gripped the podium, her voice booming "we need to speak out!"

Bonnie was surprised at how normal her mother seemed, impassioned yes but normal. After losing Atticus in a car accident only a few months ago, she seemed to be coping quite well. There were no sheer moments of anguish over losing her infamous anthropologist spouse; there were no tears because Abby simply threw herself into her work. She buried herself under piles of research so that she wouldn't think about her loss. After the fervent speech, Bonnie joined the long procession of people lining up for an autograph.

"Great speech," she said, handing the book to her mother.

"Bonnie, "she sighed, looking up at her "you came" she added, quickly scribbling across the front page.

"Can we talk?"

"I have a few more of these to sign" she patted a hand on the pile of books in front of her and pointed to the growing line of people behind Bonnie. It took the better part of an hour but Bonnie found Abby again as the crowds dwindled.

"I stuck around" she said, tucking a hair behind her ear.

"I can see that" Abby nodded, gathering her things and swinging her black tote over her shoulder.

"Do you wanna grab some dinner?" Bonnie followed as Abby headed for the exit, their shoes clanking on the polished wood.

"I have plans" mumbling over her shoulder, she quickened her pace.

"Like what, nuking Sudan or Somalia for infringing human rights?" Bonnie chased, her dress flapping against her legs as she tried to keep up with her mother. When Abby stopped abruptly, head turning back toward her, Bonnie knew that she had gone too far.

"Ok, that was below the belt" she apologized, palms raised for a ceasefire.

"Bonnie, you're checking up on me" a flush flared around her cheeks as Abby narrowed her eyes at her daughter.

"How about we try – _hi, daughter, thank you for coming_ " Bonnie stood her ground, "Be a good sport and show me around New York"

"You've been in New York for four months" she was walking again, her pace slower this time and Bonnie could join in her casual strides.

"And I still haven't found a place that serves great Lebanese food" she teased, folding her arms across her chest.

"Try the Zagat"

"I had a job interview today"

"So, you're sticking around" she gave her daughter a quick glance.

"Yup, no more pub-crawls in London" she remarked, earning her a crooked smirk from her mother. Abby considered her for a moment, then pursed her lips before breaking into a half-smile.

"You look good, "she finally said, her eyes travelling from Bonnie's boat-neck white dress to her pin-straight hair.

"Have dinner with me" Bonnie pleaded, touching her mother's forearm. The neon lights flared outside, lighting up Fifth Avenue so much that they hurt her eyes.

"I have to prepare a speech for Columbia then I'm flying out to London for the next leg of the book tour."

"Give my regards to daddy"

Abby seemed to ignore her jab, even though her spine stiffened. She raised her hand and waved for a taxi.

"Two words come to mind" Bonnie yelled as a cab swiftly pulled up beside them, "Filial cannibalism. It's when an animal eats its young"

"I'm familiar with the term, "Abby opened the door, pausing to address Bonnie "but calling me a bad mother is getting old." she added, sliding into the back seat and shutting the door.

"It's all I have" Bonnie said quietly as she watched her mother roll down the window.

"Its good to you back, Bonnie" she finally smiled, though it did not carry to her eyes "Oh and good luck with that job!"

..

When she left the library, she took a cab to meet up with Caroline and Klaus at Per se on Columbus circle. Her stomach was already rumbling as she joined the couple at the bar.

"How long is the wait?" she asked removing her coat.

"Ten more minutes," Caroline said giving her a kiss on the cheek.

"Come, unwind" Klaus motioned to a seat next to Caroline. Before she could get comfortable, Bonnie beckoned for the barman and ordered a glass of merlot. She didn't mind that it was a house wine because the wait for a table wouldn't be too long.

"How was the interview?" Caroline offered her a small platter of appetizers and she picked a caviar smothered cracker.

"Pleasant" she hummed, taking a bite.

"So you met with the man himself, Alaric Saltzman?"

"You make him sound like an icon, "Bonnie shrugged, "the man is barely forty"

"Is he as good-looking in person as he is when he graces the cover of the magazine?" Caroline asked, much to Klaus's displeasure.

"Better" Bonnie teased, merely to annoy Klaus.

"He's always reminded me of JFK Junior, he's got that debonair Kennedy quality" Caroline nudged Klaus's ribs with her elbow, leaning her head against his shoulder.

"Only if Kennedy was a rugged mountaineer with bourbon breathe" Bonnie smiled as she recalled her meeting with the man.

"We all know about the Kennedy curse, right?" Klaus raised his glass of scotch. At long last her wine came and she urgently drew it toward her. Bonnie admired the claret color of the merlot through the glass then slowly took a sip, eyes closed as she savoured the rich oak smell and the smooth taste.

"Did you wear your money suit?" Caroline chuckled and raised her eyebrow.

"I wore my winning smile" she winked, lifting her glass for another sip.

"Hey, you got this in the bag," Klaus interjected, his hand brushing Caroline's arm" you know it and he knows it" he took another pull from his glass and Bonnie smiled. She appreciated their friendship. They might have been the only people she really knew around New York but they were enough. Caroline was an anchor for a popular news channel and Klaus was an assistant District attorney and as busy as their lives were, they always made time to listen to her problems.

"I just need him to weigh in on my interview article" Bonnie sighed, twirling her wine glass.

"You had to write an article?" Caroline asked, lacing her fingers with Klaus's.

"Pretty much" Bonnie nodded and caught sight of a waiter as he approached them.

"What about?" Klaus asked as the group rose to their feet to follow the waiter to their assigned table. It was a great table with views of Central Park, or at least the treetops.

"Gun control issues in America" Bonnie replied over her shoulder.

"And what's your stance on gun-control?" He asked, pulling a chair for Caroline while Bonnie assisted herself.

"I'm pro-gun sense but not gun-control" Bonnie replied with a shrug as she leafed through the menu even though she already knew what she was having. She watched as the couple helped themselves to the table salad, drizzling olive oil over their portions.

"Actually having a gun in a home increases the risk of murder or suicide in that home" Klaus pointed the prongs of his fork at Bonnie and her self-satisfied grin.

"First, Obama's health-care control and now gun control, what's next, the freedom of speech?" Bonnie chuckled, glancing up at Klaus, "Do you really think that gun control is going to hinder crime? If anything it disempowers the average American citizen."

"Look at Britain, the country has gun laws tighter than Watergate and look how that's turned out" she smiled, looking from Caroline to Klaus.

"You're British; you're supposed to be pro-gun control." Caroline smiled at her, her cheeks flushed pink from the wine.

"Maybe Diane Sawyer's interview with the mother of the Columbine shooter will sway you."

"I'm open to debate, Klaus."

"And we could talk about this all night" Klaus warned, beckoning the waiter back to their table to take their orders.

"But we won't, because I have a four a.m. call time and I need my beauty sleep" Caroline warned and gave him a kiss on the cheek before smiling at Bonnie.

..

Damon pushed the door open, flicked on the light and there was his plasma TV, beckoning him. He tossed his leather satchel on his desk, nearly toppling the mug that contained his freshly sharpened pencils. He had an antique Remington typewriter that reminded him what journalism used to be about. Dumping his jacket on the couch after removing his loafers, he padded through to the kitchen to get a beer and to peruse the takeaway menu so that he could order from the corner place down the street.

It was a typically tiny New York kitchen with white cabinets paired with black countertops and a butcher-block island with extra drawers to double up on the storage. As he cracked open his beer, he leaned against the island and perused the menu. He wanted to try something new tonight but he knew that the odds were hummus and naan bread with a side portion of Greek salad. As he dialled the number to the middle-eastern restaurant he wondered why Ric had wanted him to submit that article

..


	2. What Kind of Day Has It Been

The peal of her mobile phone woke her up from the couch where she had dozed off while watching Larry King. Straining her eyes against the harsh morning light, she fumbled for the phone and pressed it against her ear.

"Yeah?" she croaked and rubbed her eyes with the back of her hands.

"Miss Bennett, this is Vicky Donovan from Whitmore magazine"

"Hi," Bonnie sat up, suddenly alert as she swiped a hand through her tousled, dark hair.

"Mr Saltzman would like you to come in at ten this morning."

"This morning?" her eyebrows shot up and she rose to her feet, shaking the sleep off her shoulders.

"Will that be a problem, do you need to reschedule?"

"No, not a problem at all. I'll be there." Bonnie assured her. She rubbed the back of her neck. Her body hurt from the flat cushions and her uncomfortable sleeping position.

"Great, see you then" Vicky told her before hanging up. Bonnie stood there a while longer with the mobile phone in her hand trying to feel awake enough to jog upstairs and take a shower. The TV was still on but she had probably set it on mute when she fell asleep. Reaching for the remote control, she increased the volume so that she could hear the brunette CNN news anchor report about the GOP debate in Cleveland, Ohio.

It was sure to be an exciting day.

After a hot shower, she drank a double espresso and scrolled down her IPad as she read the New Yorker. She went over the headlines then the real estate section because for some reason looking at pretty apartments always calmed her. She blamed her obsession on her passion for story telling because the homes listed on that screen had stories to tell. There were families who had hung Christmas lights in those homes, children running around in their pajamas, lovers sharing breakfast in bed and a dog licking a little girl's nose. Real estate wasn't just about structure, it was about life lived and memories shared. That's why she loved it.

..

Damon heard the sound of a soft tap on the wall of his cubicle and took his eyes off his laptop.

"Am I interrupting anything?" Vicky asked, folding her arms over her chest.

"Nope, I'm good" he replied, sizing her up as he took a sip of coffee from his Star Bucks cup.

"You're needed in Ric's office" she said, cocking her head at him.

"Do you know what it's about?"

"Forgot to ask" she sighed before disappearing behind a wall of cubicles. Running a hand through his hair, Damon drummed his fingers on the desk, eyes fixed on his laptop screen. He left the article and rose to his feet then took another swift gulp from his cup. Cautiously, he moved around the maze of cubicles, hands tucked into his pockets as he made his way toward Ric's office.

After knocking lightly on the door he waited for Ric to order him inside.

"Damon, thank you for joining us" Alaric smiled and beckoned for him to enter. Damon noticed her the minute he crossed over the threshold. He took in her curves in a mid-calf black pencil skirt; he followed the lines of the crisp white shirt to the swell of her pert breasts. Her dark hair was pinned up into a high ponytail to accentuate the green eyes hidden behind her horn-rimmed glasses.

"This is Bonnie Bennett, Bonnie this is Damon Salvatore" Alaric made the introductions, arms crossed against his chest as he sat on top of his desk.

"Good to meet you, Damon" she smiled sternly and held out her hand.

"Likewise" he replied, shook her warm hand and then turned to cock his eyebrow at Alaric.

"What's up?" he asked Alaric, rapping his knuckles against his jeans.

"I'd like to make the two of you an offer" Ric said after clearing his throat. His eyes darted from Damon to Bonnie then back to Damon.

"I'm dividing the column between the two of you" he finally announced, a pleased smile crossing his lips.

"Dividing the column?" Bonnie raised an eyebrow and stepped away from Damon.

With a slight nod, Alaric continued, "You have to present opposing opinions on different subjects"

"Your first assignment is to discuss the idea of making voting obligatory." He said, addressing them, "Remember to offer solutions to the issue at hand and not to simply raise the issue"

"Wait, are you seriously giving _my_ column to him?" lifting both hands, Bonnie shook her head and fixed her eyes on Alaric.

"Technically it's not _your_ column and if anyone were to get a column around here it would be me" Damon chipped in and stole a glance at her.

"And why is that, because being a fossil around here entitles you to your own column?" her green eyes darkening, she came back right at him with a snarl.

"No because I'm qualified and I've worked damn hard too" Damon said pointedly as he inched closer to her.

"This is not fair" she hissed, spinning around to face Alaric.

"Life is not fair Miss Bennett. If you want the job, you're gonna have to work with Mr. Salvatore" he said matter-of-factly with a shrug of his shoulders.

"What will it be?" he cocked his head, tapping his foot.

"I'll accept the offer" she mumbled, chewing the inside of her cheek.

"Damon?" Alaric turned to his long-time employee, a quizzical look on his face.

"I'm game" he smirked, his gaze pinning Bonnie to the spot.

With that, Alaric stretched out his arm for a firm handshake. "Bonnie, welcome to the zoo"

"Ladies first" Damon offered as the two of them left Alaric's office.

"Let's get one thing straight, I don't need you to play the gender card with me. You will treat me like any other male Neanderthal in your office" Bonnie hissed, her eyes locked onto his.

"So you're a feminist" he smiled, walking beside her in an attempt to match her strides.

"You know if I was a man I wouldn't have to share my column with you"

"Right, because if you were a man you'd get overlooked for a position you're highly qualified for because of some cute, little British female intern"

"I'm not an intern and I'm not British" she huffed and held up her hand-bag between them as if to shield herself from him.

"Did your perky accent get the memo?"

"You're such a nutter"

"I'd argue if I could" he chuckled, strangely intrigued by the flicker in her green eyes.

"You know that feminism basically boils down to Adam, Eve and the apple"

"And here I thought that the serpent had something to do with it" she smirked and stepped even closer, closing the gap between them.

"You know the good book, I'm impressed." His smile broadened as her musky perfume filled his nostrils.

"You know what you are. You're a cliché, like soft serve pretzels and Broadway in New York" she matched his smile with a stern one.

"You don't even know me and FYI, pretzels are a Philly thing" Damon corrected her much to her obvious disdain. He knew her type very well. She was the sort that refused to ride on anyone's coattails, she was also the type to never want to identify as a woman because she was a person.

"I'm a great judge of character" she insisted as her eyes coasted down his body and somehow the mere action alone jolted his groin.

"Then would it be safe to assume that you're like a red double decker bus, chips and warm beer?" he cleared his throat in attempt to compose himself.

"Don't forget the fried fish, cricket and endless rain" she added, head tilted up so that she could look at him through her long eyelashes.

Willing his cheeks not to flush, he schooled his features and responded, "Aah yes, must not forget the rain and cricket. Oh what culture you guys have over there"

"Yeah, kind of like your sissy pseudo-rugby which you call American 'football'?"

"Have you actually seen a game of football?"

"No because there's no world cup for American football now is there?" she teased with an arched eyebrow, "And oh wait, there's no world cup baseball either."

"Okay, okay" Damon lifted his hands in protest.

"America's like a bloody island and I bet you're the king of the island"

"And the legend of stiff upper-lipped Brits lives on" He spat, catching a glimpse of Vicky as she approached them.

"You do know that I'm not British, right? " Bonnie narrowed her brilliant eyes again, "My father's American and my mother is Somali"

"What does that make you?" he gestured down to her chest and was almost sorry that he did.

"Human" she snarled with gritted teeth and for once he was grateful that Vicky was about to interrupt their heated moment.

"I'm Vicky; I'm in charge of morale around here" the brunette announced and smiled at Bonnie.

"Bonnie"

"Yeah, we spoke on the phone. If you will follow me, I will show you to your cubicle and get you settled in"

"Thank you" Bonnie managed to tear her eyes away from Damon and offered Vicky a sincere smile. Then with the flip of a switch, she spun back to glare at Damon and hiss a firm, "Salvatore"

"Bennett" Damon nodded, arms crossed against his chest as she watched the two women walk off together.

..

"Did I miss the broadcast?" Damon asked Enzo as he climbed on the leather topped chair at the bar.

"Nope, you're still in time to hear Taylor's position on security" he replied with a shrug and took a long pull from his beer. Noting that his friend was lost, Enzo explained and leaned closer to Damon so that he could hear him over the noise.

"He's going to build the next Great Wall of China, mate" he expanded, gesturing to the big plasma screens mounted all over the bar, "He wants to build a wall to keep out the Mexicans"

"And I think he's proposing that we get Jon Snow to guard it" Katherine walked up behind Damon and slapped a hand to his back. She took her seat next to Enzo and tossed her small handbag on the counter before beckoning the bartender.

"Naturally I think Gandalf the Gray would be better suited for the position" Enzo chuckled, lifting his beer in salute, "I mean who can yell 'you shall not pass' better than the gray wizard while guarding that wall?"

"Is that the hallmark of the Taylor campaign, a Game of Thrones ice wall?" Damon chuckled, glancing around the bar to a noisy crowd playing a game of chug, "And who's going to build this great white wall?"

"I'm pretty sure there are some goblin slaves we can courier over in slave ships" Katherine laughed titling her head back to gulp down a shot of tequila. Damon ordered a double shot of bourbon.

"Hey, speaking of immigration, how's the sexy British lass?" Enzo yelled, smiling wickedly at Damon.

"You tell me, _mate_ " he returned the grin and swirled the alcohol in his glass before taking a healthy gulp.

"If there's gonna be a British invasion at Whitmore, I'm gonna need another tequila" Katherine shouted, pounding the bar with her fists.

"I thought you liked my English sausage, in fact you called it proper" Enzo quipped, glancing at her over his shoulder with a wink, "Of course it was the wee hours of morning and you were drunk off your tosser"

"We always fall in love over too many shots of tequila" she mused and handed him a bottle of tequila. Rising to his feet, Enzo positioned himself behind her and pulled her hair, titling her head back before pouring tequila down her throat.

"You can come pass out on my bed tonight, sweetheart. I won't mind" he grinned and watched as Katherine came up for air, shook her head and swallowed the alcohol.

"Okay, before you two start spewing facts about Clinton as part of your foreplay, I'm gonna order another bourbon" Damon noted with a smirk.

"Look what the minx just dragged in" Enzo's eyes locked toward the door and Damon followed his gaze. Keeping his eyes on Bonnie, he swirled his drink and downed it.

"You're staring" Katherine chuckled, waggling her eyebrows and Damon fought the fire that was beginning to creep into his cheeks.

"You gotta give it to Taylor; the man's a genius for cutting out the middle man. I bet Warren Buffett or Howard Hughes wish they'd thought of that concept." He said pointedly, hoping to sway the conversation back to politics.

"Billionaires no longer need to buy politicians, they just become the politicians!" Enzo cheered and a group that was huddled in a corner booth cheered with him.

"I don't care who says what but Taylor is my _Draco in leather pants_ " Katherine purred and linked her arm with Enzo's, "I never thought I'd say this but I miss Sarah Palin" she added with a groan and Damon knew he was in for a long night and that his friends were going to hook up again tonight.

..

"Megyn Kelly is brutal tonight, "a brunette said as Bonnie took a seat next to her at a booth by an arched window. Vicky had extended an invitation to come and watch the GOP debate with them at Miguel and she had agreed. She wanted to fit at her new work place.

"Hey, if Taylor can dish it then he can take it" someone else said before Vicky broke in to make the introductions.

"That's Anna," Vicky said pointed to a brunette girl with great skin, "and this is Davina. Everybody, this is Bonnie"

"Hey, I saw you around the office today" Anna raised her glass at Bonnie.

"Hi, cool top" Davina smiled and gestured to Bonnie's black draped blouse.

"I've always liked Megyn Kelly's hair and her sharp wit." Anna pointed to the screen again and Bonnie was glad that the attention had deflected away from her.

"I hear they pay her a ton" Bonnie added, eager to be a part of the conversation. Vicky gestured to a server so that they could order another round of drinks.

"Fox News's Stepford agenda, blonde news anchors with big blue eyes" Anna rolled her eyes and shot Bonnie a questioning look as if she was trying to figure her out.

"I wonder if it's in their contracts, perpetual blonde hair and a compulsory Socal cleanse" Davina snorted and down the rest of her vodka and lime.

"Hey, I have a friend who's a news anchor and she's pretty brilliant" Bonnie half teased as everyone placed their order with the waiter.

"Is she blonde?" Anna raised an eyebrow.

"Yes but that's not really relevant because she's a-"Bonnie began before Anna interrupted her again.

"Then she's part of the Stepford agenda" the brunette said and exchanged a look with Vicky.

"Welcome to Anna's feminism class" Vicky joked and smiled at Bonnie.

"So who's your homecoming king tonight?" Davina broke the awkwardness by directing the question at Anna.

"My money's on Jeb Bush" Anna responded and raked a hand through her dark curls.

"Beep, no personality" Bonnie retorted with a smile and Anna hesitated before melting into a smile of her own.

"Well I think Marco Rubio's a dream boat" Davina simply said much to the amusement of the rest of the table.

"Well that's swell, Marcia Brady." Vicky laughed, turning around to swipe her drink from the server's tray. He set the drinks down in front of each woman and they picked them up.

"How was your first day?" Anna asked, tearing Bonnie's eyes away from a couple that had been engaged in serious kissing in a booth not far from them.

"Good, pleasant. I wish I was in Cleveland covering the debate but what you gonna do?" she shrugged and took a sip of her dirty martini.

"You're one of those serious investigative journalists like Jane Mayer aren't you?" Anna leaned closer to her and narrowed her eyes, "I've heard of women like you"

"Yeah, you're like bigfoot at Whitmore magazine" Davina pointed and nudged Vicky's elbow before gesturing to the dart's board.

"I don't know how serious of a journalist I am if I'm sitting behind a desk in a cramped cubicle instead of being out there on the field" Bonnie said looking into her glass at the murky martini.

Fishing an olive from her martini, she turned to ask Vicky and the girls, "How long have you guys been at Whitmore?"

"Three years" Anna replied and took a pull from her beer.

"A week" Davina smiled sweetly with a half-shrug.

"Too long" Vicky responded sourly, looking deeply into her glass.

"You should've been here last year; we had a staff field trip to Washington" Anna noted and stole a look at Vicky.

"Yeah?" Bonnie raised her eyebrows, her gaze darting between the two women.

"Vicky here nearly had a Monica Lewinsky moment with the first commander in chief" Anna said with a stifled laugh.

"She's kidding" Vicky insisted, noting the look on Bonnie's face.

"About the liaison with the president or about the white house trip?" Bonnie asked.

"Both. The best you can hope for here is a field trip to Star Bucks for some cold brew coffee" Vicky laughed, throwing her drink back down her throat.

..

Two days later after successfully avoiding Bonnie at the office, he found himself at the work gym for his Saturday morning workout. He purchased a bottle of water from the juice bar, scanned in his membership card and located the treadmills in order to find Enzo.

"Hey, what'd I miss?" Damon greeted Enzo and tossed his towel over the rail of the treadmill.

"For starters, you missed Mary Poppins over there and her show on the Stairmaster but you're just in time to watch her tackle that guy"

"Mary Poppins?" Damon quizzed as he climbed onto the treadmill next to Enzo's.

"I'd like to go several rounds with her, mate" Enzo gestured to a woman punching at a kickboxing instructor with her boxing gloves. Damon hummed, his eyes exploring her sleek body in a black sports bra and black ski pants. It took confidence and a great body to pull the look off and she had both. He adjusted the waistband of his sweatpants to give room to the growing erection that was occurring in there. When she removed her head-guard and shook her ponytail free, Damon groaned.

It was none other than Bonnie Bennett.

"And I'd rather shoot myself" Damon spat and increased the speed on his treadmill.

"You're telling me you wouldn't hit that?" Enzo asked, his eyebrows shooting up.

"She's as uptight as Margaret Thatcher" Damon argued, his feet pounding the surface as his pace increased.

"You know what they say about domineering women in the bedroom" Enzo teased, still hiking away at a steep incline.

Rolling his eyes, Damon smirked, "Yes because Margaret Thatcher in pleather wielding a whip is my ultimate fantasy"

"Actually domineering women love to be submissive in bed" Enzo counted, his eyes following another blonde female passing them in a blue leotard before coasting back to Bonnie, "You know she likes it rough, just look at her with all that pent up anger"

"I bet she's a screamer, a loud and beautiful screamer" Enzo continued, obviously enjoying the effect this argument was having on Damon.

"You're an idiot" Damon resigned with a sigh and shut down his treadmill. He wouldn't be able to get a good workout today.

"You should make a go at it, you'll thank me later" Enzo called after him as Damon proceeded to make his way to the locker-rooms. After splashing cold water on his face, he made his way toward the exit to leave the gym. He was in the process of tossing his backpack over his shoulder when someone bumped into him.

"Salvatore" she greeted when he spun around to face her.

"We got to stop meeting like this" he grinned, accessing her and received an expected scowl from her. Shaking her head and pursing her lips, she said

"Ladies, first" motioning for him to exit before her.

"Why, thank you" Damon obliged and stepped onto the busy sidewalk.

"You use those to block out conversation?" he pointed to the earbuds dangling around her neck.

"Yeah, kind of how I'm about to block you out in a sec" she smiled, twirling her finger around the white wire linking her iPod to the earbuds. He couldn't wipe the smirk off his face as his eyes darted down to the sweat pooling at the base of her throat.

"How's your article going?" he asked as they stood under a big green awning, shielded away from the glaring sunlight.

"It's practically writing itself, yours?" she gave him a challenging grin.

"I whizzed past the first draft" he said confidently.

"Great" Bonnie noted and her eyes escaped to the street where Damon assumed she was searching for an available cab.

"Good and of course I'm anti compulsory voting." He baited her into a debate in an attempt to keep her from leaving. He told himself that it was because he was bored and needed a way to entertain himself.

"Voting is a democratic obligation" Bonnie snarled at him taking the hook.

"Yes but people shouldn't be forced to vote for candidates and policies they don't believe in" he smiled, enjoying how flushed she looked from her workout and now from their debate at hand.

"Then they need to educate themselves about policies and about how the government works. You can't just keep complaining about how the country is run and not do anything about it" she countered, eyes narrowed at him like she was addressing a kindergarten kid, "Democracy is only as good as its citizens"

" _Democracy_ being the operative word here. If you force people to vote you might as well have Stalin running the country because goodbye human rights" Damon said simply and took a long pull of water from his bottle.

"You think forcing people to vote and educating themselves about policies is fascism?" she cocked her head, shaking it incredulously at his statement.

"I think it infringes on basic human rights, so heck yeah, its fascist"

"Kind of like your gun-control policies?" she blinked at him, hands now stapled to her hips.

"Look, being a journalist is a huge responsibility. They don't say the pen is mightier than the sword for nothing."

"I bet you're excellent with your sword then" Bonnie chortled, slowly sizing him up.

"Touché" he grinned, a flicker of amusement in his eyes, "You wanna share a cab?" he asked.

"I'm going to Park Avenue; you're headed to the West Village, right?" she quipped and began to walk away from him.

"That explains it" Damon called, sneaking a hand into his hoodie.

"What are you talking about?" she spun around and shot daggers at him with her eyes.

"Your sense of entitlement" he replied with a shrug, careful to keep his eyes trained to her face and not her sleek, honeyed body in that body hugging get-up.

"You're a Park Avenue Pollyanna" he told her.

"If anyone here has any sense of entitlement, it's you" Bonnie spat as she raised her arm to hail down a cab.

"Good-bye, Thatcher" Damon yelled when a yellow taxi pulled up next to her.

"Only you could come up with such a pedestrian moniker" she smiled lightly and opened the door.

"Good-bye, Thatcher" he repeated more to himself as her taxi pulled away.

..

"What are you doing this weekend?" Caroline asked as they walked across the polished marble floors of an art gallery. She'd agreed to meet Caroline for lunch after her gym session so that they could catch up.

"It's Saturday so by all accounts I think _this_ is it" Bonnie mumbled and scrolled down her phone to read an e-mail from her father.

"You should get out more and start enjoying the city" Caroline advised her, head tilted up so that she could view the giant spider metal installation looming above them.

"There's this book launch at a Chelsea gallery tonight and if you're free you could join us" she told Bonnie who summarily slid her mobile phone shut so that she could focus on the pieces.

"Who's us?" she asked the blonde even though she already knew the answer.

"Me and Klaus"

"I don't feel like being the third wheel this weekend. No offense" Bonnie held up her hand in protest and walked to another installation, an amour plated ladybug.

"None taken" Caroline shrugged, "My crystal ball tells me you might meet someone" she said with an ever widening smile.

"And my nipples can tell when it's gonna rain" she chuckled, their heels clicking against the marble and the sound echoing around the stark space.

"Huh?" Caroline's brows furrowed, her eyes searching her friend's face.

"Sorry, a little Mean Girls humour. It's a thing around the office"

"Come on, live a little" Caroline nudged her with her elbow before linking their arms together.

"I have an opinion piece to write for the column" Bonnie finally sighed and checked her watch. She wondered if their table would be ready at Eleven Madison Park because she was ready to eat a horse but she'd settle for a goat cheese salad and white wine.

"Aah, your column. I'm so excited for you" Caroline squealed, squeezing Bonnie's upper arm.

"It's not my column. It turns out I'll be sharing the spotlight with one bigoted male rat."

"Is he cute?"

"What are we in middle school? I tell you that I'm sharing _my_ column with some bloke and you're asking if he's cute!" Bonnie shook her head, "You're an objective journalist Caroline and you-"

"I'm a news anchor who reads off a teleprompter. I love my job but let's remain factual" Caroline said pointedly before offering Bonnie a big grin.

"My point is that I hope you're not one of those women who base their votes on their delusional attraction to some political figure. We already know that you think JFK was hot"

"Oh honey, you really need to get laid. You overthink everything" the blonde giggled as they exited the gallery, "besides I base my vote on gender. That's why I'm voting Hillary Clinton and seriously JFK was seriously hot."

After her lunch with Caroline, Bonnie took a cab to Chinatown to meet with a source over some dim sum. Sloan was a former personal assistant to the first female minister of Gujarat, Anandiben Patel and now worked for the Indian embassy in New York. Bonnie had met her at an exhibition for Enrique Radigales in Chelsea and they did a yoga class together a few times but had lost touch after that.

"Mandatory voting empowers citizens and helps educate them about the electoral process," Sloan took a hearty sip of her lychee martini and licked her bottom lip then raised her eyes to look at Bonnie again, "The least number of voters in India come from the poor rural areas and the better educated they are about policies, the better" she said, swirling the drink around her glass before setting it back down on the table.

"I mean Singapore, Peru and Australia have all gone that route and I'm excited for Gujarat to find its voice too" Sloane said as she picked up an edamame and truffle dumpling with her chopsticks.

"So you don't think it's a case of ruling with an iron fist?"

"Listen, change needs to happen over there and this is a step in the right direction"

"I'm having a dinner party with my boyfriend next weekend. You should come"

"You're seeing someone?" Bonnie smiled, cocking an eyebrow over the rim of her dirty martini.

"Yeah, we met at a Nigerian art exhibition. He's funny, eccentric and I'm in love with him"

"Once you go black…" Bonnie teased, swirling her ginger and shrimp dim sum in the small bowl of soy.

"His name is Marko and he's Latina" laughing, Sloan plucked a sui mai dumpling from her steamer basket and popped it into her mouth.

"About that dinner invitation…" Sloan asked as Bonnie was paying the check.

"Uhm, I don't know. As long as it's not a setup"

Sloan's eyes widened, "You're not dating?"

"You sound shocked" Bonnie replied coolly and picked up her oversized clutch, tucking it under her arm.

"I am because you're smart, gorgeous, successful and you have a lot to offer some nice guy"

"The only problem is that New York has a shortage of _nice_ guys" Bonnie smirked and slipped on her sunglasses.

"Take a walk on the wild side sometime. You might find that you like it" Sloan pulled her white framed sunglasses from the top of her head and shielded her eyes.

"I don't do anything wild unless it's reporting about rebel groups in Congo" Bonnie laughed and raised a hand to hail a taxi for them.

..

Damon fidgeted with his tie as they followed a waitress to their table at Aldea. They weaved through tables until they reached a table facing out the window where they could see the sparkling city skyline. The server handed them their menus, took their drink orders and disappeared back into the kitchen.

"How's your week been?" Stefan cleared his throat, glancing around the crowded restaurant with its white table cloths and shimmering silver cutlery.

"Oh, it's been a thrill" he smirked and leaned back into his seat. Pulling a bread basket toward him, he seized a sesame seed bread stick and broke it apart then dipped it into an olive oil and balsamic vinegar blend.

"I love this place and its tasting menu with its exuberant prices. It kind of reminds me of all those suffering child soldiers in Congo. Did you know that they recruit them in mosques now?" he said, leafing through the menu.

"Damon, could we not….just this once" Stefan protested with a sigh.

"Tsk tsk tsk but then again you do your part by attending all those charity balls to fund non-profit organizations with what's her name"

"Rebekah" Stefan remarked as the waitress returned with their drinks, bourbon for Damon and a red wine for himself.

"Right. The two of you make UNICEF proud" Damon raised his glass to Stefan.

"We have a couple of specials tonight. Would you like to hear them?" the waitress asked, tapping her pencil on her notepad.

"No" Damon waived it off because he could see that she was slightly nervous from the way she chewed at the end of said pencil in between tapping it on her pad.

"You ready to order?" she asked.

"Yup" Stefan nodded, his eyes fixed on the meu pages.

"Will you be having any starters?"

"No, just the mains thank you"

"You got it."

"I'll have the octopus salad" Stefan glanced up quickly then looked back down at his menu before setting it aside.

"Wild scallops with the white wine parmesan noodles" Damon gave his order and winked at her in attempt to loosen up her nerves.

"So, how do you feel about your civic responsibility to vote?" he asked Stefan as the server walked away.

"What?"

"What's your take on Venezuela abolishing compulsory voting?"

"What the hell Damon?"

"I'm writing my first article for the column and just wanted to know your view on mandatory voting"

"Alaric gave you the column?"

"Not exactly." Damon shrugged then paused as the server filled their glasses with water.

"Do you vote?" he asked, turning to the waitress.

"Yeah, I like vote on Dancing with the stars like every season" she smiled, blushing.

"Yeah, "Damon turned to Stefan and smiled, "I think I just won my argument on forcing the lay-man to vote"

"You're such an elitist pig" Stefan groaned, shaking his head.

..


	3. You Can't Always Get What You Want

Bonnie's stilettos echoed throughout the apartment courtesy of the high ceilings. It was a studio apartment in a pre-war building that came with a doorman. She liked the exposed brick and the hardwood floors because it was classic Upper East Side.

The place was two blocks away from her apartment and she wasn't interested in buying it but the agent didn't need to know that. She liked touring open houses on Sundays. Her eyes feasted on the little details like spiral chandeliers hanging from the high ceilings, mosaic glass doors on the bathroom cabinet and the green tufted sofa adorned with pinwheel pillows. She preferred the furnished places because she could still touch the memories, they were still raw but sometimes the bare bones of a vacant space were more haunting.

"It's a stone's throw away from Central Park" the realtor was telling her as Bonnie shielded her eyes from the sunlight spilling into the room with her hand.

"And its pet friendly" the redhead said again, walking in stride with Bonnie who was anxious to take in the view from the wrought iron balcony. Her eyes scanned the tree lined streets below before glancing up to the sky where rays of golden light streamed down between thick clouds.

"I bet." Bonnie smiled and for a brief moment, all was right with the world. Her phone vibrated inside her messenger bag, jolting her from the moment. Pulling it out, she quickly glanced at the screen before answering.

"Hi, dad. You still at work?" she asked, raking her fingers through her pin-straight hair. Rudy Hopkins was a chief of staff at a hospital in London and worked recklessly long hours, so much so that he practically lived in the hospital.

"How's the new job?" he asked and Bonnie could hear the muffled sounds of the hospital intercom before he shut the door to his office. She'd spent plenty of time in that office, slurping up sweet and sour pork noodles while they either worked on her dissertation or discussed the appeal of doctor McDreamy on Grey's Anatomy.

"I think it's a good fit" she nodded, biting her bottom lip as she leaned against the rose-fringed balcony. The realtor was pacing inside the apartment, checking her watch and stealing an occasional glance at Bonnie.

"A former attendee of mine is moving to Manhattan in a few days and I thought that you could take him out and show him around"

"I'm not letting my father set me up on a blind date"

"It's not a date. You'll be sort of his…tour guide"

"No, dad" Bonnie held her index finger up to the agent to signal that she was going to be a minute.

"I already gave him your number so you can accept a call from him" her father continued much to her chagrin.

"I really wish you hadn't" she sighed, rolling her eyes. When she shot a glance inside the apartment again, a young professional couple was walking inside, arms wrapped around each other's waists.

"What are dads for?" he chuckled and Bonnie clicked her tongue. Seeing the couple's arrival as her opportunity to exit, she rushed back into the apartment and nodded to the agent who was now showing the apartment to the young lovers.

"Have you spoken to mom?" she asked her father, knowing that it was the last thing he wanted to discuss.

"Stop trying to get your mom and me back together, sweetheart"

"Dad, it's not like I'm masterminding the parent trap. You're in London and she's currently in London. I just thought the two of you would get together for a spot of tea or something, you know… discuss her book."

"I'll think about it"

"You do that." she smiled as she coasted past the doorman.

"Gotta run, love you" Rudy said with a resigned chuckle.

"Love you too" Bonnie's lips curved into a smile, she checked her watch as she hung up. She weighed her options about the open house in Brooklyn but decided to call it a day on real estate. Hailing down a cab, she made her way to the rooftop café at the Whitney Museum for a salad and a glass of chardonnay.

..

Damon liked to lie in on Sundays. He liked planning the day in his head from his breakfast of left over pizza to the first cold beer just as the first NFL game kicked-off. When he cracked his eyes open, the first thing he noticed was an arm wrapped around his waist. Blinking, he kicked the sheets off his legs and groaned. The girl from the previous night was still in his bed, dark hair splayed across his chest, one leg draped over his leg. When he shifted, she didn't move and so he cleared his throat and drummed his fingers on her upper arm.

"Morning" she mumbled, removing her arm and blinking up at him with bloodshot eyes.

"Hey" propping himself on his elbow, Damon untangled himself from her and ran a hand through his dishevelled hair. He noticed the mascara streaked pillow where she had rested her head.

"You want some coffee, uhm…?" he glanced at her as she rose from the bed, a sheet draped around her naked body.

Looking at him over her freckled shoulder, she replied "Gia, and no I'm good"

Damon searched his floor for his jeans and slipped on the pair while she slinked back into her dress from the previous evening. He remembered meeting her at some bar in Tribeca after his dinner with Stefan. She seemed fun, free and he'd needed the release.

"Thanks for last night." he smiled at the threshold, swinging the door open for her.

"Don't mention it." Gia grinned as she walked out, leaving her whisky and cigarette scent wafting in the room. Shutting the door behind her, he leaned against it and closed his eyes. He liked one night stands because there were no complications and there was no drama. Padding into his kitchen, he grabbed a beer from the fridge and padded back to the lounge to stretch out on the couch with his faithful remote.

It was going to be a beautiful day.

..

"Grab a seat," Ric told Damon as he shuffled into his expansive office. He winced as he stole a glance at Bonnie who was already seated in front of Alaric like the teacher's pet she was. With a groan, he collapsed into the chair. It was going to be a long Monday and his morning coffee hadn't kicked in.

"The column is out and the numbers are looking good. It's not as punchy as I would have liked but we can work on that. The two of you gave really good points which made for a riveting debate but I would have liked something more cohesive, something that said that you fed off each other but I didn't get that. It felt disconnected." Alaric said, tapping a pen lightly on his desk. Damon could feel a tension headache climbing up the back of his neck and wondered how long the meeting was going to last. He needed a crate of red bull, stat.

"It wasn't a complete misfire so we can still salvage it." Alaric continued, quite oblivious to Damon's discomfort, "You need to work as a team in order to make this work."

Bonnie cleared her throat and when Damon dared to steal a glance in her direction, he found her stiletto tapping nervously on the floor. Clearly he wasn't the only one annoyed by Ric's early morning zeal today but one would never know from looking at Thatcher's stony glare.

"Which brings me to my next point; in order to work cohesively together I thought it would be a great idea to share office space."

That sentence alone jolted Damon from his foggy thoughts. He opened his mouth to say something but Thatcher bit him to it.

"You mean we're gonna be sharing a cubicle?" she spat; apparently the thought alone left a bad taste in her mouth. Damon rolled his eyes because he clearly felt the same way.

"Yup, pretty much" Ric responded with nonchalance and took a slow sip from his coffee mug.

"Ric, you should know that I have a serious problem with sharing" Damon mumbled and raked a hand through his messy locks.

"And I'd rather nail my head to the wall, sir" Bonnie chimed in, jaw clenched.

Ric glanced up, his face unaffected, "So neither of you wants to share a cubicle?"

"You just hit the nail on the head there, buddy…uhm I mean, sir" Damon's lips curved at the corners as his gaze slid down Bonnie's body in a high-collared white shirt and black pencil skirt.

"Tough luck" Alaric shrugged his shoulders and rose from his chair. It was the end of the meeting and he wanted them out of his office. Receiving the message loud and clear, they scrambled to their feet and shuffled toward the door.

"And the giant hammer of authority strikes; love it when you wield that hammer…sir" Damon raised two fingers to his forehead for a salute.

"Why don't the two of you bounce ideas off each other?" Alaric asked, his eyes darting back and forth between them. With a slap to his back, Alaric sent Damon off with Bonnie following shortly behind him.

"Oh and Bonnie, I need your autograph" he motioned her back with his hand as an afterthought and Damon also stopped in his tracks in comradery.

"My autograph?" she cocked an eyebrow, her eyes darting from Ric to Damon.

"A little matter of your employment contract." he grinned and opened his door wider. With that Bonnie stepped inside and Damon was left out of the loop. He hated being left out in the cold or out of the loop because it seemed like the two were going to be discussing something pertinent to the column and he wouldn't be there to give his opinion.

As Damon lumbered down the hallway, a paper plane flew over one of the cubicles, striking his head.

"A merry morning to you too!" he yelled, slapping his hand against one of the cubicle walls as he walked past.

"You look as fucked as I feel" Vicky stepped out of Jeremy's cubicle, a stack of folders against her chest.

"Good morning, beautiful" he smiled, tracing his finger along the edge of one of her folders.

"Not too close, I haven't had my giant douche vaccination today."

"You're angry about something and frankly I'm-"

"Am I?" Vicky's brows shot up, "You text me on Saturday and tell me to meet you at our place in Tribeca. Only to find you sucking face with some bimbo!"

"Actually I think she has a BA in psychology so she's definitely no bimbo"

"Fuck you, Don Draper" she spat and blew right past him. Damon was about to yell back and defend himself when his mobile phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled the phone from his pocket and looked at the screen before scrolling down to read the text message from Stefan. He was reminding him about a dinner party for Rebekah's brother. Damon had never met the guy but he was sure that he wouldn't like him; after all he was a district attorney. After sitting through many bland dinner dates with Rebekah and Stefan and their lawyer antidotes, he knew that lawyers were as boring as dirt.

..

"What's that all about?" Bonnie asked, twirling a lock of hair around her finger. She was leaning against a desk in the coffee area where a few employees were loitering around drinking bad coffee from the coffee machine.

Anna followed Bonnie's gaze to Damon and Vicky then shrugged, "The End of the affair?"

"Are they seeing each other?" Bonnie took another sip of steaming coffee, fighting the urge to spit it out.

"It's complicated"

"Right" Bonnie nodded and wrapped both hands around the paper cup. She couldn't be sure but something told her not to pursue the matter.

"Hi, baby" Jeremy greeted, draping his arms around Anna's shoulders and nodding at Bonnie. Lifting her paper cup in salute, Bonnie offered him a smile.

"I read your piece on Syria's humanitarian crisis" he murmured against her cheek and squeezed her closer to him, "Great stuff"

"Thanks babe" with a smile, she raised a hand and stroked his chin before he dipped his head to give her a peck on her nose.

"We still on for movie night?" he asked as he unravelled himself from her. Picking up her hand, he held it to his lips and held her gaze.

"I have Netflix, a bottle of wine and you. You could say my night is made" Anna laughed as he brushed his lips against her hand. With a wink and a wave, he left the girls and Bonnie immediately shot Anna a quizzical look.

"So you and Jeremy are a thing?" she asked and she was pleasantly surprised. Anna seemed like one of those ambitious CNN news reporters who got a raw deal by getting a spot at Whitmore magazine. Jeremy just seemed like a lost little puppy looking to prove himself. She wondered if his balls were big enough to handle the job.

"He keeps a toothbrush at my place" Anna smiled and picked up a paper cup so she could pour herself a fresh cup of bitter coffee.

"Ah, relationship goals" Bonnie smirked, staring into her cup.

Shooting her a look over her shoulder, Anna asked "What about you?"

"What about me?" Bonnie squared her shoulders, using every ounce in her to school her features into nonchalance. Anna raised an eyebrow, undeterred.

"No, I have no stranded toothbrushes seeking shelter in my apartment." One corner of Bonnie's mouth lifted as her eyes strayed back to Damon who was disappearing behind the walls of his own cubicle.

"You're cute" Anna blew into her coffee with a chuckle and Bonnie's eyes shifted back to the brunette.

"I'm hilarious" she smiled, "Just curious, does he use an electric toothbrush?"

"Why do you ask?" Anna's eyes flashed a hint of curiosity, her cup poised over her painted lips.

"I don't know, maybe because I look at him and think fully charged electric tool"

With a smile, Anna shook her head and warned "Hey watch it. That's my man you're talking about."

Davina rushed toward them, waving a phone in her hand "Technology has ruined romance." She announced, cheeks flushed red as she looked from Anna to Bonnie then back to Anna.

"I'm seeing this guy from Brooklyn and he never calls, I mean never. He sends these noncommittal texts with bad grammar and I have to fight the urge to correct him"

"Hate those"

"And the fact that he lives in Brooklyn makes it seem like a long distance relationship, ya know?"

"You gotta love boroughs and dating deal breakers" Bonnie smiled over the rim of her plastic cup.

"I miss the era of long detailed love letters"

"Or long walks in Central Park"

"Hi, my name is Liam Davis. I like tennis, long walks in snowy Central Park and smoking the occasional hooka after work" he sneaked up on the girls, sliding up behind Davina.

"Shut up" she laughed and jabbed him lightly in his stomach.

"Gotta run, thanks for the chat" Bonnie patted Anna's elbow and raised her glass to silently toast Davina and Liam. She made her way to the vending machine and cocked her head to the side to study its mechanics before slipping a coin inside. She punched a button to select a health bar and waited for the bar to drop so that she could retrieve it. When nothing happened, she started to panic slightly and looked around the buzzing newsroom to see if someone could assist her. She hated looking so helpless and hated it even more when she looked stupid and right down the stupid machine was winning.

"There's an art to it" a voice announced from her right and as Bonnie spun around to identify the source. A brunette with tousled dark hair winked at her before taking her position in front of the machine.

"You gotta rock it, just a little bit to the…left" she said and demonstrated by standing feet wide apart and she rocked the machine. After a loud clank, the bar dropped and the woman fished it out.

"Eureka, a trail mix bar. Someone's living on the edge" she said, handing it to Bonnie.

"I think voila is a more befitting term but thank you" Bonnie held out her hand and took it from her.

"I see Damon was right about you"

"And what has Salvatore been saying about me?"

"That you're an aggressive pariah with a great ass"

"And you are?" Bonnie narrowed her eyes at her.

"Katherine, Katherine Pierce" she held out her hand.

"Bonnie Bennett" she smiled, accepting the handshake.

"The new girl" Katherine grinned and held on to her hand for a while longer before releasing it.

"Thank you for…" Bonnie lifted her hand to signal the health bar.

"Just trying to avoid another vending machine fatality" Katherine called as Bonnie walked away.

Shouting over her shoulder, Bonnie waved the bar in air, "Well I owe you one"

..

"You know what you are?"

"Is this the part where you tell me?" Bonnie lifted her eyes, widening them when she saw the box in his hands. This was really happening, Salvatore was moving in-moving into her office space-to be more precise.

"You're trouble" he sighed and strolled into the cubicle. He set the box down on her desk, completely dismissing the available desk on his right.

"What's the matter, you dreamed about me?" she asked, schooling her features to hide her irritation.

"What's your take on our new conundrum, us sharing an office space?" Damon asked and moved aside a few things on her desk before taking a seat on the edge.

"I have a strong tolerance for pain and discipline" she shot back with a faint smile.

"Stop the presses; Thatcher has a sense of humour" he smiled, a flicker of amusement in his blue eyes.

"I'll take the left side of the cubicle" he announced after a bit.

"I'm _in_ the left side of the cubicle" Bonnie narrowed her eyes at him, drumming her nails on the desk.

"Well I sleep on the left side of the bed; I'd appreciate it if you would move to the right side of the cubicle"

"How did this suddenly become about sleeping positions?" she asked picking up her cup and smiling at him over the rim.

Taking the cup from her hands, he placed it down on the desk and wiggled his eyebrows, "Which side does your cat normally take?" he asked.

"I'm not moving, Salvatore"

"I see you're a creature of habit. This is the beginning of a wonderfully loathsome friendship" with a heavy sigh; he resigned back to the right side of the cubicle and placed his desk on the empty desk before collapsing in the chair.

"You know what would make for a riveting debate, the ban on happy hour" he said slowly, studying her profile. She was unnerved with him being in such close proximity to her.

"How about a drink tonight?"

"It's Monday" she said, striking the keys of her laptop.

"Exactly so you definitely need one" he lifted his cup to his lips, legs propped on his desk.

"If it makes you feel any better, I'm sure its Friday somewhere in the world"

"I don't know…" Bonnie pursed her lips, considering the idea of a dirty martini and maybe a bite to eat. She needed food in her system because that big salad she'd ordered from the corner deli had burned a hole right through her stomach.

"Just as colleagues" he declared as if reading her mind.

"I don't think I could afford to be seen with you" she said casting him a glance.

Damon smiled slowly and said, "Why don't you let me do the thinking?"

"You're doing more talking than thinking. Here's a dumb idea, why don't you put that megamind of yours to work and produce a brilliant article." she smiled before resuming with her work.

..

When Damon got home, he had a hankering desire to find out more about her. He cruised into his kitchen and pulled out a box of cereal from the cupboard. Pouring cereal into a bowl, he topped it with milk and added a spoon to the bowl before padding back to the couch. He stretched out in front of the big screen TV and picked up the remote control. Switching on the plasma, he coasted through the channels and settled on news about the bombing of an abortion clinic in Iowa. He listened to the reporter and the comments from a crowd of overzealous protestors before opening his laptop. He waited for it to reboot as he silently chewed his cereal then clicked to a search engine. Rubbing his hands together, he rolled his shoulders and typed in Bonnie Bennett and waited for the results. He clicked through a number of websites where she was interviewed about her political blog and stumbled into an Oxford alumni website with her bio. He read about her tennis championships, her debate trophies and her career aspirations but there was nothing personal about her. When he tried to search for her on Facebook and twitter, he found nothing. Clearly she wasn't comfortable putting her personal life out there for the world to see. His phone vibrated and he grabbed it from the edge of the table.

"This better be good," Damon said into the phone, his eyes still fixed on a picture of Bonnie in a tiny white tennis skirt.

"What are you doing, watching porn?" Enzo teased with a chuckle.

Dropping his gaze to Bonnie's bare legs, Damon cleared his throat "What do you want?" he asked as he closed his laptop.

"Just checking to see if we're still on for tomorrow night's game of pool"

"Shit, I have this thing with my brother"

"No worries, mate" Enzo sighed and Damon heard a peal of laughter and music in the background.

"Where are you?"

"I'm at cupcake's place. We're playing a little Game of Thrones. I'm Jaime Lannister and she's Cersei Lannister"

"Nothing like a little incest to get that libido going," Damon smirked and tried to shake the image of Katherine and his friend engaging in a steamy session of sex role play out of his mind.

"Why are you there on a work night anyway, you guys doing midweek sleepovers now?"

"Okay gonna run, mate" Enzo swiftly replied before the phone died. He stared at the dead phone for a while, somewhat amused by their antics before he dropped it back onto the table. He wasted a few more minutes flicking through channels before crawling into bed.

..

"Hope has this habit of eating her toothpaste" Caroline announced as she sliced some cucumbers for a table salad. Bonnie was sitting across from her on the black counter top island in Klaus's massive kitchen, her finger circling the rim of her wine glass. She had just managed to sprint home after work to change into a pair of jeans and a white oxford shirt. She was wearing her hair down today, toffee-coloured waves that tumbled just past her shoulders. She thought it made her seem casual and approachable, something she needed to be during a dinner party.

"Klaus bought her the new Star Wars toothpaste-it changes colours and lets you know when you're done brushing-anyway, she does the most adorable thing with-" her friend rambled, the crystal beaded chandelier over the island illuminating her flaxen hair. She paused midsentence, disrupted by the entrance of a bubbly little boy pulling his dad's hand.

"Louis!" Caroline exclaimed and dropped her knife so she could hunch down and smother the little boy in a tight hug.

"Hi, guys" she grinned and extended the same courtesy to the grown-ups.

"Hey, I brought wine and patron. I wasn't sure what the vibe was" the woman said, handing Caroline two bottles of alcohol.

"Guys, this is Bonnie. Bon, meet Sophie and Marcel" Caroline introduced them, gesturing between the trio with her hand.

"How're you doing?" Bonnie stuck her hand out for a firm handshake, a broad smile on her face.

"You work with Care?" Sophie asked after shaking hands, looking from Caroline and back to Bonnie.

"No, I don't have a face for TV" she teased and stole a glance at their son. He looked to be about six years old and had his father's bright smile with his mother's inquisitive eyes.

"You know what they call the hood in Italy?" Louis asked Bonnie who shook her head.

"Uhm…I'm stumped" she chuckled as she picked up her glass to take a sip.

"The spaghetto!" Louis laughed and slapped the table as Marcel ruffled his short hair. Sophie swung a glass from a top cabinet and helped herself to the bottle of wine that was sitting on the counter next to Bonnie.

"Where's Klaus?" Marcel asked Caroline and looked at the salad that the blonde was assembling.

"Upstairs setting up the kids' playroom for the evening" she replied over her shoulder as she opened the refrigerator to pull out a couple of blood oranges and a bottle of balsamic vinegar.

Marcel placed his hands on Louis' shoulders and ushered him out of the kitchen "Come on, sport. Let's leave the girls so they can hang out"

Sophie groaned with delight at the first sip of wine. After another long and hearty sip that left her glowing with joy, she smiled across at Bonnie and gestured to her naked left finger.

"You single?"

"Yeah"

"Lucky cow" she cocked her brow and gave Bonnie a once over.

"Bonnie's only single because she's too picky" Caroline offered as she placed a pair of green lemons on the chopping board.

"Not picky, just judicious" Bonnie countered, taking another sip of wine and letting it sit on her tongue for a moment before swallowing.

"Look who's here!" Caroline shrieked, interrupting Bonnie's thought process. Spinning around in her chair, Bonnie's mouth flew wide open and all the colour drained from her face. Her throat tightened at the sight of him because behind the couple that Caroline was obviously quite excited to see was none other than Damon Salvatore. People greeted and laughed around her and Caroline introduced the couple as Rebekah and Stefan but all she could see was the wicked glimmer in Damon's blue eyes.

"Damon this is-"

"Thatcher" his lips turned up at the corners as his gaze swept over her.

"Oh god, just tag my toe because I'm dead" Bonnie muttered, seizing the bottle of wine for a refill.

"You two know each other?" Stefan's thick brows shot up, his eyes flickering back and forth between them.

"You could say that" Damon replied, his eyes not leaving Bonnie. Her chest felt tight, and her mouth had dried up. Looking up, she glared at him and took a long sip before she replied.

"This is Damon Salvatore, the demon spawn" she announced, burning a hole through Damon with her eyes.

Studying her intently with eyes that seemed bluer against his denim shirt, he smiled faintly and said "And this is Thatcher; passive, unresponsive and dull with vacant eyes"

..

Klaus transferred the wine into an oblong glass decanter so that it could breathe and Sophie was busy kneading Marcel's shoulders, pressing her thumbs into the back of his neck. Bonnie couldn't remember what the guests around the table were talking about because she couldn't deal with the fact that Damon was now in her social group. Not only did she have to share an office with him and deal with his Charlie Brown posters but now he was here infiltrating her circle friends.

"Did anyone see the picture of the little Syrian boy who drowned at sea?" Rebekah asked, picking at her Cobb salad.

"Oh god, that was horrible" Sophie glanced up from her plate as Marcel refilled her wine glass.

"I don't know why they would even publish that. It was shocking, tragic and just downright disrespectful" Caroline offered her own words of wisdom, her cheeks flushed red.

Reclaiming his seat next to his wife, Marcel added "What makes it worse is that people are busy tweeting photos of the little boy and trading them like baseball cards."

"It's disgusting" Caroline said taking a glass of wine from Klaus.

"It's yellow press" Damon mumbled between mouthfuls of grilled salmon.

"As tragic as this is, it does help highlight the plight of all refugees is Syria, Iraq, Afghanistan and Somali to name a few" Bonnie chipped in and set her glass of wine down in order to pick up her fork.

Lifting a brow at Bonnie, Damon said "And all it took was a sensationalist picture"

"As a mother I can't even imagine what that mother must've gone through with her sons at sea" Sophie cast a glance at Marcel and squeezed his hand.

"Pray that you never have to find out" Damon lamented with a sobering voice before Marcel broke in with a more spirited tone.

"I hear there's a possible Uber IPO" he said cheerfully and raised his glass at Elijah who had been seating quietly chewing his food. He'd been looking miles away and Bonnie suspected it was because of the absence of his wife, Camille but at the mere mention of a stock listing, he looked up.

"Uber's about to go public?" Rebekah's eyebrows shot up and she exchanged a swift glance with Stefan.

"Marcel…" Elijah warned.

With a shrug, Marcel smiled "Hey, it's not insider trading if you're no longer a Wall Street rat"

"What are you saying, is it safe to break out the piggy bank stash?" Klaus arched an eyebrow over the rim of his wine glass.

"Uber China will probably IPO first in Shanghai's stock market then they'll list on Wall Street" Marcel explained, twirling the wine in his glass.

"Isn't the Chinese stock market imploding?" Bonnie asked, cutting into her fish.

"Hey, no more investor talk, I don't want to be cited in an insider trading scheme" Elijah's voice sliced through the conversation and after much rumbling Damon came to the rescue.

"I hate Uber cabs" he moaned, eyes focused on Bonnie and she dabbed the corner of her mouth with a napkin.

"Why? I mean Uber's very convenient, it's like a dial-a-cab" Stefan asked, plucking out bits of salad from Rebekah's plate and planting them onto his plate.

"Isn't the magic of New York City standing out on that dirty sidewalk, wet from a pounding rain and trying to hail down a cab? If you merely punch a button on your app to find a cab, doesn't that take away some of the magic?" Damon leaned back in his chair and seized his glass.

Nodding at his brother, Damon asked "Didn't you guys meet while hailing a cab?"

"Yup, my rain hero" Rebekah replied cupping Stefan cheek and kissing him softly on the lips.

"What is New York without its iconic yellow cabs?" Damon continued, seemingly fired up and Bonnie adjusted her collar.

"It's like Gene Kelly without his tap, Bogie and Bacall without their banter or Sinatra without his tribute to New York. It makes no sense" Damon said, his eyes darting around the table before locking back with Bonnie's.

She froze, a frown marring her face before she found her voice, "Didn't figure you for the romantic sort, Mr old blue eyes"

"I'm all about romance, Thatcher" his voice softened as he met her gaze head on. She was compelled to brush a stray strand of hair from her face but did not want to appear affected by him.

" _Come fly with me, let's fly, let's fly away_ " Damon suddenly broke into a song, tapping his fork against the rim of his wine glass.

"Well, this calls for old scotch and some scene music" Klaus announced, rising from his chair.

"Honey, what are you doing?" Caroline laughed and grabbed his hand, "Not too loud, the kids are sleeping" she cried, tilting her head up as he leaned over her. Caroline puckered her lips so he could kiss her and the corners of her mouth curled up after the kiss. With a nod, he wiped the edge of her bottom lip with his thumb before moving away towards the lounge.

..

As the dinner party began to clear, Marcel and Sophie loaded up their sleeping son into a waiting cab and Elijah crawled into the back of his town car. Damon found himself outside on the stone terrace with a glass of bourbon and Bonnie for company. The evening air smelled sweet and felt cool against his face.

"What a silly little outfit you have on" she snorted, a breeze brushing her face and lifting strands of hair from her forehead. He fought the urge to tuck it back behind her ear.

"All the better to seduce you with, Thatcher" he smirked, his gaze sweeping over the stresses again; he liked her hair like this. She looked free and happy for once.

"Then you should know that I'm doing a slow hand clap…in my pants…right now" she teased, licking the after taste of sherry from her bottom lip. Damon could tell that she was slightly drunk but not nearly inebriated enough to be considered fun.

"As long as you refrain from any standing ovation" he told her and clanked his glass of bourbon against her sherry glass.

"Would you like to share a cab?"

"I thought you didn't share, Salvatore" she raised one trimmed eyebrow, a bemused smile on her face.

"I could be persuaded"

..


	4. Cold Feet

The stench of vomit filled their nostrils as they crawled into the back seat of a yellow cab. With a deep sigh, Damon leaned his head against the headrest and gave Bonnie a sidelong glance.

"Out of all the cabs in Manhattan, you pick the one that smells like vomit, urine and old onions." he shot her a lazy smile and scratched at the stubble on his chin.

"You gonna tell Sam not to play it again or should I?" she slurred and gestured to the front of the cab where the driver was blasting Indian techno music.

Damon leaned closer toward the grimy plastic partition with flyers pasted on it and slapped a hand against the half-screen, "Hey buddy, you wanna roll up the partition?"

After the cabbie pulled the screen up with a petulant gesture, Damon sat back against the bench and let his eyes rake over Bonnie. He couldn't take his eyes off her face and the way the city lights cast a subtle glow on her skin.

"Why do you think you're single?" he suddenly asked and she glanced up, her pulse racing with anticipation.

"Who said I'm single, doctor Phil?" she cocked an eyebrow and swallowed in an attempt to regain some moisture in her dry mouth.

"I can always tell these things" he simply shrugged and then quickly added, "You wanna grab a beef and pastrami sandwich?"

Bonnie hesitated and stole a glance outside to view the swirl of lights as they passed a few delis. A shiver chased across her skin as his fingers brushed her hand and she swiftly spun around to stare at him. She bit her lip and cast another look at his hand. Grabbing the oversized clutch that had been resting on the seat between them, she held it against her lap and closed her eyes.

"Are you okay?" Damon arched an eyebrow.

"Yeah" she nodded vehemently and fumbled inside her bag for a tube of lipstick even though she wasn't quite sure why she needed another layer of jungle red on her lips right then and there.

"I know this place with some of the best beef and pastrami in New York" Damon announced and instructed the cabbie about the change of destination even before Bonnie could protest.

"Everywhere has the best beef and pastrami" she rolled her eyes at him, a sullen look on her face.

"Does your negativity ever get exhausting? I mean you put so much effort in being unhappy." He chuckled and nudged her shoulder.

"I'm not unhappy" she countered, clasping her hands together on her lap.

"Are you happy?" Damon asked and she chose to look out the window instead. The rest of the ride was silent and she was glad because she finally had the time to gather her thoughts. When they arrived at Damon's favourite food truck, Bonnie's eyes raked over the graffiti-painted container and she bit her lip anxiously. She watched as Damon took charge and ordered for her then her eyes coasted back to the deli guy who stacked paper thin pastrami slices, sour pickles and cuts of beef topped with creamy mustard between two slices of rye bread.

"Here, my treat" Damon offered Bonnie after paying for their order and she hesitated as she glanced down at the wrapped sandwich in his hand. Seizing it from him, she picked up a few paper napkins from the counter and proceeded to follow him down the crowded sidewalk.

"There's a man deficit, that's why women are single. It has nothing to do with feminism" Damon said, picking up their taxicab conversation.

"So you're saying we're not single by choice" Bonnie took a bite and moaned in appreciation as she closed her eyes. It had been a while since she'd tasted something so sloppily delicious.

"This is better than sex" she groaned, a tongue darting out to lock the mustard off her top lip.

"Nothing is better than sex, Thatcher" he smiled, his eyes trailing across her face to linger on her lips.

"Unless you've been having really bad sex" he added, almost as an after thought.

"Hey, I have good sex" she shot back with a scowl that only earned her a smirk from Damon.

With his grin widening, he cocked his head and said, "Just not great sex cause you wouldn't be comparing great sex to a pastrami sandwich."

"My sex life is really none of your business" she snapped again and brushed past him as they passed a newsstand.

"You're right and neither is any lack of it." he shrugged and fell in step with her as he took another bite of his sandwich. Bonnie chose to ignore his obvious attempts to rifle her feathers and focused her attention on the newspaper headlines displayed on a newsstand.

"So you _are_ you single?" he asked or rather stated.

"What?" she shook her head, a frown creasing her eyebrows.

"When I spoke about a man deficit you said that _we're_ single by choice. You included yourself in the demographics."

"I was speaking in general…for the gender as a whole" she explained, her cheeks blushing.

"Of course and to respond to you, no you're not single by choice -as an entire gender, that is" he deadpanned and took another mouthful.

"And how do you think we can solve this _deficit_?" Bonnie rolled her eyes, looking at him with as bemused look on her face.

"You're college educated and fairly successful but you refuse to revaluate your dating deal breakers."

"So by re-examining our deal breakers we can solve the issue of being single?"

"Pretty much"

"And what are _our_ deal-breakers?"

"You want to get married but you're not willing to marry a blue-collar guy, let alone an obese guy with slight neuroses"

"Those are not deal-breakers, those are standards"

"Same thing."

"Would _you_ be willing to revaluate your deal breakers for someone who doesn't meet your dating standards?" she narrowed her eyes, watching as he finished the last of his sandwich.

"No because I don't have to. You see, there's no shortage of women, eligible or otherwise" Damon replied simply and wiped his hands with a napkin before discarding it into a nearby trashcan.

"You're such a tosser" she hissed, looking at him incredulously. When he didn't shoot back with another sarcastic comment, she retreated back and arched her eyebrow.

"Do I have something on my face?" she asked, perplexed by his perceptive stare. Damon devoured her with a long gaze, taking in her tousled dark hair, fiery green eyes and the pink lips that had his imagination running wild.

"Your hair looks good like this. You should wear it down more often" he told her, his eyes looking intently into hers.

"Thank you" she mumbled then quickly recalled something and her eyes sparked as she added, "You should know that I don't date colleagues. I know that dating colleagues is your thing but-"

"Who said anything about dating?" Damon stepped back, a frown marring his face "Oh, you think that I want-that was not a line; it was merely an observation" he laughed her off with a wave of his hand and Bonnie's stomach dropped.

"And what's with this _I know dating colleagues is your thing_?" he gestured, his face screwed into a grimace.

"Never mind" she stammered and tossed her half-eaten sandwich in the same trashcan where he'd castoff his, "I have to run, early morning and all"

She shot her hand up and flagged down a cab before he could stop her "Taxi!"

"Thanks for the… cab ride and the sandwich" she said over her shoulder as she dived into the back seat of the taxi before it could even make a proper stop.

"Don't mention it" Damon said and raised his hand to bid her farewell.

..

In the thick heat of the city she was grateful for the blasting air-conditioning in her taxicab as she stepped into Whitmore's office building. She marched down the hall in her spiked patent leather pumps, their signature red sole flashing with each step she took. She had barely slept a wink last night and wasn't sure whether to blame the wine or her conversation with Damon Salvatore. When she arrived at her cubicle, Damon was already there. He was earlier than usual.

"You're in my spot "Bonnie said in a low voice although the urgent beating of her heart was betraying her cool demeanor.

"I don't see your name on it, Thatcher" he looked up, cool as a cucumber then returned to working on his laptop. Bonnie sucked in a ragged breath and tapped a foot against the carpet.

"We agreed, the left is my side and the right is yours. You can't just use the entire cubicle" she bit her lower lip, folding her arms against her chest.

"I like the left side" he said matter-of-factly and she could tell that he was enjoying her humiliation.

Expelling a long breath, she smiled "I want the left side. Sleeping on the left side of the bed makes me more positive. I learned that at yoga"

"You take yoga?" Damon's eyebrows shot up, a flicker of amusement in his clear blue eyes, "I don't know which is more shocking, the fact that you think you're a positive person or the fact that you're a hippie yogster" he chuckled, shaking his head.

"Yogster is not a word" her voice was stern as she fought the urge to roll her eyes.

"I forgot that you know all the words in the English language" he teased, rolling up the sleeves of his slim fit blue shirt. He looked good in the shirt, she noted but then again he always looked debonair in blue which is probably why he wore it so much.

"Salvatore…" she warned, narrowing her eyes. She resented the fact that he could make her feel so off balance, so unsure of herself.

"You know bearing in mind that you're a conservative, you would be more comfortable on the right" he smirked, stippling his fingers beneath his chin.

"Can you behave like a human being for a second?" Bonnie crowded his desk with one swift step and planted both hands on it. He was slow to react, a slow smile teasing his lips as he leaned back in his chair. He studied her for a moment, his eyes traveling down her crisp black dress before he sprung up and clapped his hands.

"Okay, truce?" he asked a moment later and waved a paper packet filled with bagels. Bonnie raised a sceptical brow before snatching it from his hand. Opening the bag, she took out a poppy seed bagel and admired the cream cheese before taking a bite.

"Forgiven?" he asked, hands linked behind his head and legs propped on his desk. Bonnie pulled out her gunmetal laptop and set it down on the desk. She waited for it to power up and took a seat, crossing her legs.

"Really?" Damon lifted an eyebrow, "you're giving me the silent treatment?"

He swung his feet off the desk, sat forward and propped his elbows on the desk. His chair creaked as he shifted his position and Bonnie glared at her screen trying to concentrate.

"You wanna toss around some ideas?" Damon asked, rising from his position to circle her desk. Chewing the inside of her cheek, she glanced up at him and shrugged.

"How about a piece on the Iran nuclear deal?" he asked again when she didn't say anything.

"Hmm… diplomacy versus conflict, I'm guessing you're leaning to the left on this one too" she shook her head because she could feel a headache creeping to her temples. She needed a cup of coffee, even if it was bad break room coffee. She didn't bother to excuse herself as she stepped out of their cubicle.

When she reached the notorious vending machine, she glared at it like an old foe.

"He's a man's man"

Someone's voice made her look up and Bonnie shook her head, narrowing her eyes at Vicky.

"Pardon?" she asked, rolling her shoulders to fight the tension in them.

"Damon, he's a man's man. I just thought you should know" Vicky explained and slid a coin into the machine. Bonnie's eyes followed the clank of the coin and the uncoiling of the springs holding a packet of chips in place.

"I'm not sure why you think I would want to know that" she said softly as Vicky's packet of chips fell into the compartment.

"He's slept with every woman in Manhattan, oh wait….you better make that New York" Vicky shrugged casually and reached down to retrieve her purchase.

"Why are you telling me all this stuff?" Bonnie shot back, scrutinizing Vicky over the rim of her paper cup. She took another swig of bland coffee and waited for Vicky to respond.

"Because you're sharing an office with him and the next thing you know you'll be sharing a bed with him" Vicky replied in a tired voice and met Bonnie's suspicious gaze.

"He's not my cup of tea" Bonnie assured her as she turned from the machine to make her way back to her desk.

Vicky gave an empty chuckle, "Everyone says that"

"I'm not everyone" Bonnie replied with a quiet intensity.

Catching her forearm, Vicky warned "Just remember, Damon is an asshole."

..

Bonnie had actually invited him to her place to discuss the article and he was quite shocked after the disastrous day they had at the office. If she was willing to be professional about everything then so was he. He walked past her doorman and pressed a finger to go up the elevator to her apartment ignoring the circular marble staircase on his right. The place was elegant which didn't surprise him because he had already gathered that she had been brought up with a silver spoon in her mouth.

He curled and uncurled his fingers around the long neck of the wine bottle. For some reason, he wanted to make a good impression. He took labored breaths as the elevator climbed and nodded his head in tune to the classical elevator music. When the doors opened, he stepped out onto a black and white zigzagged floor and searched for her number on the doors. He pressed her doorbell, smoothed a hand down his navy cotton jersey t-shirt and waited for her to open the door.

When she swung the door open, he was taken off guard by the tomato red shirt with bellowing sleeves, pencil jeans and tousled hair gathered into a messy topknot. She looked casual and relaxed something he definitely had not expected from her.

"Evening, Salvatore" she greeted and took a sip of wine from the big crystal goblet in her hand.

"Bow chicka bow wow" he wiggled his eyebrows with a smile as he leaned against the doorframe, "I just came by to lay some pipe"

"Where's your tool box?" she arched an eyebrow, her gaze crawling over him.

"Right here" he waved the bottle of wine in in his hand. With one gesture, she stepped aside and beckoned him inside her airy apartment. It was large, cold and fit for a very serious woman like her but the wafting scent of vanilla mesmerized him. She didn't give him a tour of the place but rather settled him into a beige couch overlooking a wall of windows with a spectacular city view. Damon picked up a silver framed photo from the side table while she retrieved a wine glass for him in her kitchen. She was posing with her trophy in her little white tennis skirt but she looked so lonely in the photograph, not very different to how she looked now. He set the picture back down next to a vase of fresh pink peonies as she approached him.

"There you go" she smiled and handed him a large glass of red wine.

"So we need ideas" she said, taking a seat across from him. She picked up her wine from the coffee table littered with art books and cradled it in her hands.

"How about Hillary Clinton's narrative being about feminism in this campaign or maybe Sarah Palin? "He swirled the liquor in his glass, watching as she crossed her shapely legs.

"Is Sarah Palin a feminist if she's anti-abortion?" she asked, rubbing the back of her neck.

"Do you have to be pro-abortion to be a feminist?" Damon's eyes traced a pattern over the skin on her delicate neck as he took a hearty sip from his glass, "Because it's a darn good thing there's no statute of limitations on murder" he added, his eyes lingering on her collarbone.

"Are you referring to the extremists or the abortion providers?" an eyebrow shot up, her wine poised over her lips.

"What do you want me to say Thatcher, that I'm pro-life?"

"Funny thing about being a pro-life advocate when you're actually bombing buildings with people inside them" she said matter-of-factly, "Here I thought you were anti-terrorism or is it different when it's a non-external threat?"

"Do you really want to discuss domestic terrorism versus foreign terrorism in light of the nine eleven anniversary?" Damon shot her an intense glare.

Shaking her head, she rubbed the rim of her glass with her thumb, "No" she mumbled.

"I'll ask again, does one need to be pro-abortion to be considered a feminist?" Damon set his wine aside and picked up a notepad from the table.

"No, but you need to be pro-choice and fight for equality" Bonnie replied and gestured to a blue box lying on the table. When he nodded skeptically, she opened it and signalled to two pieces of cake inside the box.

"What's this, a peace offering?" he smiled, gesturing to the cake with his chin.

"It's just a business cake between colleagues" she said, putting each slice onto a plate and adding a dollop of ice cream to the presentation. Damon shrugged and accepted a small plate with a small serving of chocolate cake and green-tea ice-cream.

"You are a feminist, right?" He stuck a fork into the slice of cake and lifted a bite to his mouth.

"I support humans" she smiled over the rim of her glass.

"How about your favourite, a piece about gun control?" he leaned back against his seat, crossing his leg over his lap.

"I think we've sucked the bone marrow dry from that issue" she drained her glass and smacked her lips together.

"You can never suck the marrow from that issue, it's always pertinent and given the fact that a senator's aid has been gunned downed recently, well…" Damon raked a hand through his hair and finished his wine then handed her his empty glass.

"It just feels like a stale argument, especially after our meeting with Alaric." she shrugged and reached for a bottle to refill their glasses.

"I hope any victim of a shooting never gets to hear you call this issue, a stale argument" he said, accepting the refreshed glass from her.

She heaved a sigh and asked, "What is terrorism?"

"Extremists pushing a radical agenda?" he replied, eyeing her suspiciously, "You want to do a piece on terrorism?" he asked.

"We have the nine eleven anniversary coming up" she noted, starring into her wine before taking another sip and picking up her cake.

"Hmm, and?" Damon waited, studying her curiously.

Glancing up, she shot him a serious look, "I thought you didn't want to skirt around controversial issues"

"I don't" he insisted, the wine making his head swim as he took more sips.

"Did you ever think that blind patriotism can be just as dangerous as terrorism?" she asked and Damon's gaze lingered on her mouth and the seductive way her lips closed around the dessert fork.

"I saw a clip about the abortion clinic bombing in Iowa and given the recent refugee issue and the stance some politicians have taken on immigration and birth right citizenship, I think it's safe to say that domestic terrorism is an issue" she said between mouthfuls. Damon watched as she took another sip of wine, he swallowed the last of his wine and set the glass down on the table.

"More?" Bonnie asked, swinging a gaze toward him.

"You trying to get me drunk so you can take advantage of me?" he asked with a chuckle as he rose from the couch.

"There's a vogue idea" she grinned shaking her head.

"I'm gonna hit the head" Damon said, shoving his hands into his pockets. Bonnie smiled, her eyes doing a lazy crawl over his body.

"Something's are better left to the imagination, Salvatore" she said and refilled his glass. Clearly, she was trying to get him drunk, he thought as he shuffled toward her bathroom. Imagination, ha, well his imagination was conjuring up all sorts of things at the moment and none of them were pure.

..

Damon had to remind himself that this was not an opportunity for a one night stand because with her it would hardly be a one night stand since he worked with her.

So yeah, he could sleep with her but then he'd have to face the consequences the following day and the day after that. He glanced around the room in appraisal. She had a white double carved wood vanity adorned with glass knobs, a black and white marble floor and the flowering branches of a white orchid perked up the space. He noticed the lack of color as he zipped up his pants. Thatcher certainly wasn't one for bold and intense colors. Damon couldn't help but wonder how this translated sexually. She obviously wasn't daring and effusive in the bedroom unless it was a case of still waters running deep. Who knows, maybe she was concealing a sex swing or a love seat somewhere in her bedroom upstairs. Chuckling to himself, he lifted the handle of a glass faucet and watched as warm water gushed out. He examined his face in the Venetian mirror then washed his hands before splashing his face with water.

With a shake of his head, he raked both hands through his head and sighed. He had to get it together. Bonnie Bennett was a colleague, an uptight colleague and a no go zone. As he wiped his hands on one of the fluffy towels hanging from the railing, he paused at a distant sound coming from behind the door. He strained his ears to the sound of a saxophone. She was playing music.

Slowly, Damon swung the door open and ventured out into the hallway and back into the living room where he found her standing next to an unlit marble fireplace with a remote control and a CD cover in her hand.

"Charlie Parker?" he asked, leaning against the door frame with folded arms.

"You know Bird?" she raised an eyebrow and freed her hair so that it could tumble down to her shoulders. When she started running her hands through it, Damon had to fight the urge to run his fingers through the dark tresses. They lay thick, dishevelled around her shoulder and he envisioned them splayed across his pillow or better yet, his chest. He pushed off the wall and took lazy strides toward her as if he was cornering skittish prey.

"Wait till I school you about jazz" he taunted her instead and snatched the CD cover from her.

"I'm sure your knowledge about jazz is as skimpy as your briefs" she tilted her head up slightly so that she could regard him through her dark fringe of lashes.

"I think that statement should be preceded by a question" Damon circled her, his eyes raking over her face.

"And what question might that be?" she snagged the CD cover back from him and walked over to the coffee-table where she picked up her glass of wine.

"Boxers or briefs?" he remarked and inched closer toward her again. Bonnie moved back with a chuckle and he wasn't sure if stepping back was a conscious decision from her part or not. Stretching out his hand, he lifted his glass off the table and took a slow sip.

"I don't care if you wear tighty whities under your jeans" she threw her tousled head back her and laughed.

Without breaking eye contact, Damon lowered the glass away from his lips and asked her, "Should we have sex?"

"Pardon?" her eyebrows shot up but the smile remained on her face, although it had been reduced to a smirk.

"I thought I'd just throw that out there, like a pitcher taking the mound" he shrugged, his eyes trailing over her face.

"Well that was a balk" she told him, the intensity of her gaze over the edge of her glass palpable.

"You know baseball?"

"No but I know cricket. So no wicket for you, you may blame your slippery approach." One corner of her mouth edged up while her finger reached out and walked up his chest before lifting up his chin.

Damon watched her finger and noticed its slight tremble when he grabbed it. He paused deliberately with his fingers wrapped around her finger, "Can I put another offer on the table?" he eventually asked and lifted his eyes to look at her.

"I suggest you fold" she smiled and snatched her hand away from his hold.

"You're right, we'll take things slow. It'll give us more time to savor each other's company" Damon addressed her back because she was walking away from him. Again he made light weight of the distance between them when he crossed the floor toward her.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" one of her eyebrows shot up and she pressed her glass to her lips, waiting to take a sip.

"Should we kiss?" he asked and dragged his eyes to the rise and fall of her chest.

"Damon" she warned and backed away from him.

"You said my name" he crowded her space again and she pressed her hand to his chest to stop him from getting even closer to her.

"You should go" her voice was certain but her hand was trembling.

"This has been fun" He sighed, raking a hand through his hair.

"Immensely" she smiled, biting her bottom lip before taking another sip of her wine. He reached down and set his half glass back on the table, then moved slowly toward the door with her following behind.

"I'll see you tomorrow" he bumped gently against her and opened the door. He stood at the threshold, his gaze sliding down her body before her voice jolted him from his thoughts.

"Yeah, see you at the office" Bonnie smiled, curling her fingers around the door knob.

"Goodnight Thatcher" he whispered, his breath fanning her neck then pulled back to wink at her.

..

As she closed the door for Damon, her mobile phone rang from the coffee table, its sound muffled by the jazz music from the CD player. She took wide strides toward her phone and as she picked it up with one hand, she snagged the remote control with the other hand.

"I've been trying to reach you" The male voice dived right into a conversation without introducing itself.

"Uhm you have?" she asked, the phone pressed to her ear. She switched off the sound system and tucked a hair behind her ear with her free hand.

"Can we meet up sometime for a drink or coffee?" the voice enquired and Bonnie shook her head. She was confused and she could only blame Damon for doing a number on her. She searched her mind for the stranger's voice but she came up with a blank.

"I'm sorry but do I know you?" She finally asked and lifted her glass to her lips.

"My apologies, I got your number from Doctor Hopkins" the stranger drawled and she listened for little details in his voice, sadly coming up with nothing.

"My father" she repeated, brows furrowed.

"Yes, you are Bonnie Bennett right?" he asked, the lazy warmth in his voice coursing down her spine. Nestling down into her couch, she curled her legs underneath her.

"Yes and you are?" she asked, setting her glass back on the table.

"Kai, Kai Parker. I believe Doctor Hopkins told you about me?"

"Aah, the resident doctor from London. So you're fresh off the plane?" she chuckled, swiping hair away from her face.

"Not exactly. I'm sorry to call so late, I hope I didn't interrupt anything"

"No, you didn't" she sighed, shaking any memories of what had just occurred with Damon from her mind. She rolled her shoulders and leaned her head against the headrest.

"So, about that coffee?" he asked and Bonnie rubbed the back of her neck with her free hand. Readily, she agreed because she figured she owed her dad a favor or two.

..

Bonnie pushed her horn-rimmed glasses up her nose, adjusted her tie and cleared her throat.

"Morning, Salvatore" she grinned and he paused at the entrance of the cubicle.

"Is this our new normal?" he asked as he proceeded inside to the empty desk on his right. He set his messenger bag down on the desk pulled out his laptop.

"Welcome to the island, survival of the fittest" her grin widened, her eyes flashing with mischief. She was loving this, Damon thought looking at her.

"Coffee?" she gestured to a Starbucks cup and its rich scent lured him. When she pushed off her chair, Damon noticed that she was wearing a pair of slouchy wide-legged black pants with a skinny belt. He realized that he was staring because she looked darn good in a man's suit and her curled hair softened the look.

"Don't mind if I do" He perched on the edge of her desk, invading her space. As she handed him the cup, it slipped from her grip and pilled down the front of his jeans.

"You did that on purpose!" he growled, lurching to his feet. Bonnie simply slid back into her seat and crossed her legs.

"Just turning up the heat" she smiled with a wink and lifted up her cup.

"You sure you're ready for that?" Damon's eyes darted between her face and the cup in her hand. He was so tempted to return the favour.

"Bring it!" she teased, chugging the contents of her warm coffee before he could even pounce on her.

They spent the rest of the morning working on their articles and submitted them to their editors and fact checkers for publication. By afternoon, Damon leaned back in his chair with a fresh cup of coffee in his hand and toasted to their successful afternoon.

..

"Her body has more twists and turns than a murder plot but she's too challenging for you, mate" Enzo told Damon three days later after a game of basketball.

"Besides, you like porn boobs. Thatcher doesn't have porn boobs" he laughed, demonstrating with his hands to emphasize his point, "She has Condoleezza Rice boobs"

"Patriotic boobs?" Damon lifted an eyebrow, wiping the back of his neck with a wet towel. The city was muggy and insufferable, the last blasts of summer.

"Don't be a twat. She's too good for you" Enzo simply nudged his ribs with his elbow as they entered the cool air-conditioned space of the locker-room.

"No, I'm too good for her" he countered, removing his sneakers, "Why are we even talking about this?"

"Because you like her" Enzo deadpanned and opened his locker to pull out his duffel bag.

Shaking his head, Damon perched onto a long wooden bench and buried his face in his palms "I don't like her" he moaned.

"I know when you like someone and you like her, you're just gun shy and with good reason" his friend countered and swung the duffel bag over his shoulder as he walked out of the room just as Stefan walked in.

"She's out of your league" Enzo yelled over his shoulder, heading out the door.

"I'm happy Bonnie got that contract with Whitmore, it's a step in the right direction for them" Stefan said, rubbing his wet and stringy hair with a dry towel.

"For them?" Damon narrowed his eyes, grabbing the hem of his tee-shirt so that he could pull it over his head, "You think she was a diversity hire?" he asked his younger brother.

"I'm sure she's the right person for the job." Stefan said and untied his training shoes as he sat on the bench.

Rising to his feet, Damon argued and opened his locker, "She is. I may not like her but she's got-"

"Whitmore has a history of hiring certain demographics and they don't necessarily endorse affirmative action" Stefan cut him off, glancing up at him.

"Like you said, she's the right person for the job" he snarled through gritted teeth, snatching his black shirt from the locker.

"You're right; perhaps this wasn't about meeting quotas" Stefan got up from the bench and unlocked his locker. He drew his sweat sodden tee-shirt over his ruffled head and shoved it into his bag then pulled out a fresh tee-shirt from inside the locker.

"She's smart, she's ambitious and she's sexy as hell. Trust me; she's no poster girl for affirmative action" Damon contended, shirt agape as he tried to button it up.

"Good. Now, can we stop talking affirmative action and start talking about how I just kicked your ass?" Stefan smiled, closing his locker.

..

It was a book release party for a book about New York Polaroids and Bonnie scanned the crowd for Caroline. It was a fairly light crowd but she didn't mind as she weaved through them. She found Caroline with a champagne flute in hand; face aglow as she conversed with one of the guests about a sentimental black and white portrait in the book. The blonde looked ethereal in a bird-patterned chiffon dress and Bonnie quickly regretted her black full skirted dress paired with black patent Manolo stilettos. She was classic New York, dressed in all black and looking rather morbid.

"I know I'm tardy but work was murder" she apologised to Caroline, hands outstretched to give her friend a hug. They walked over to the buffet table where Bonnie picked a slice of banana cake from the opulent selection. Caroline plucked a chocolate covered strawberry and tossed it into her mouth.

"The network is giving my slot to another anchor next week" she told Bonnie as she swallowed.

"They're using my slot to address the gun control issue in light of the senator's aid that was shot during a gang shootout" she explained with a shrug as Bonnie listened, "And since my _lover_ will be handling the case on behalf of the district attorney's office, the network feels that I might too biased to do the interview" she finished. When Bonnie shook her head, her brows marred with concern, Caroline continued.

"I mean the fact that I'm sleeping with Klaus Mikaelson does not compromise the integrity of my work." she argued, taking a healthy sip of champagne from her flute.

"And I applaud you on your professionalism" Bonnie assured her and rubbed Caroline's back with her hand like she was soothing a child. She wasn't sure what to do in this situation because she had never had to juggle a career and a relationship at the same time. She'd always been about her career and her needs because she had never met anyone she loved enough to choose between the two or someone to even make her question her choice.

"Funny, that's the same thing that Jenna said" Carline laughed weakly and rolled her eyes.

"I never thought I'd see the day when my career blackmailed my relationship" the blonde slid a finger around the rim of her glass and then drained its contents.

"In this industry you can't always have it all" Bonnie said, lowering her eyes to her emptying glass, "this isn't right you know" she quickly added as an after thought and received a smile from Caroline.

"Perhaps but I'm up for contract renegotiations in a few months" the blonde shrugged and flagged down a passing waiter.

"Did Jenna tell you that? Is she threatening your contract with the network?" Bonnie asked, watching as Caroline lifted two flutes of champagne from the server's tray.

"She's merely a mouthpiece for the board and she was advising me to choose my battles" Caroline responded, handing Bonnie a fresh glass.

"I thought about calling my agent, Wes Maxfield to discuss my options going forward. I also considered talking it over with Klaus but I know he'll make a big legal issue out of it and suggest I move to Fox again because I'm a better fit for their demographic" she explained, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

"You gonna keep this from Klaus?"

"I'm choosing my battles" Caroline smiled and sipped her champagne.

"What are you doing on Labor Day?" the blonde suddenly perked up, her eyes flashing with excitement, "we're doing the Hamptons and you're joining us" she told Bonnie before she could get in a word.

"You wouldn't be advocating a threesome, would you?" Bonnie laughed, swerving to avoid another server with a tray of hors d'oeuvres hoisted above his head.

"You might be too conservative for artisanal sex, Bon" Caroline teased.

"Don't knock me till you try me"

"Look, we'll kiss summer goodbye with too much wine and too much sun. It'll be fun" the blonde tried to sell her friend the idea as she linked her arm with Bonnie's arm. They worked the party and the crowd, arm in arm and traded childhood anecdotes every so often. When Rebekah finally arrived, she scrunched up her shoulders to wedge herself through the crowd. She looked chic in a green silk blouse paired with black pants and an oversized glittery clutch.

"Bonnie, great to see you again" she squealed, giving the other a hug. The rest of the night flowed smoothly and Bonnie was glad she had gone out instead of sitting behind her desk drumming out articles while she drank half a bottle of wine by herself.

Maybe New York was going to be good for her.

..


	5. The M Word

"Congratulations"

Bonnie looked up as Anna tapped her knuckles lightly on the wall of her cubicle. She shot Bonnie a smile and strolled into the small space and perched on the edge of Damon's desk. Picking up a small plastic jar filled with sharpened pencils, she plucked one out and brought it up to her nose so that's she could smell it.

"Do you mind?" Damon gestured for her to get off his desk and Anna merely shrugged her shoulders, a mask of nonchalance on her face.

"It's too early in the morning for your feminist attack, Damon" she replied, twirling the pencil between her nimble fingers.

"Who said anything about attacking feminism?" he raised an eyebrow, pulling out a drawer on his desk to retrieve a powder blue stress ball.

"You hate women" Anna said matter-of factly, not bothering to look at him and Bonnie cringed behind her cup of cold brew.

"And you hate men" Damon countered and snuck a look at Bonnie.

"I know you don't like me but I don't care because I'm here to support Bonnie" her face bloomed, "We women need to stick together"

Reluctantly Bonnie nodded an affirmation and tapped her fingers against the side of the paper cup. She didn't want to get involved; she wanted to remain neutral like Switzerland on this one.

"So congratulations Bonnie, everyone's talking about the column"

"Thanks" she mumbled back and pushed back a strand of straightened hair behind her ear.

"You knocked it out of the park" Anna continued with her adoration, punching the air in front of her with her fist.

"Hey guys, kudos on the column. It's about time we addressed violence against abortion providers." Katherine popped her head in the cubicle, followed by Enzo.

Seeing as there was no room on Damon's desk, Enzo rested his ass on Bonnie's desk and crossed his arms against his chest, "And Damon citing abortion as the ultimate form of terrorism against pre-born babies has to be ground breaking" he said giving Bonnie a wink.

"Are you holding that position?" Katherine asked, holding a mock microphone to Damon's mouth. He grabbed her wrist, tapped her hand a few times before bringing the mock mic closer to his lips.

"You bet" he finally offered, waggling his eyebrows at Bonnie.

There were further discussions about the Syrian refugees seeking asylum in Europe and the Democratic Party's position on abortion before they started discussing their Labor Day weekend plans.

"We're having an after-work drinks thing, you two should come" Anna said as the rest walked out, leaving Bonnie and Damon in their cubicle.

"I can't, I have a date" Bonnie looked up from her laptop, gaze darting to Anna and avoiding Damon at all costs. She wasn't sure why she cared what she thought but somehow his opinion mattered. She could feel him shift in his seat next to her but she kept her eyes focused on Anna.

He cleared his throat and asked, "You have a date?"

"I have a date" Bonnie's eyes travelled to Salvatore and one corner of her mouth curved into a satisfied smile. He paused, drumming his fingers on his desk before picking up his stress ball and giving it a tiny squeeze.

"Is this like a date date or an imaginary tale playing out in your head?" he teased, cocking his head to the side but Bonnie noted the slight twitch of his jaw muscle.

"Tell you what, I'll bring you back a tin-foil swan with my leftovers" her smile broadened and she caught the agitation in his voice when he replied,

"Hmm, yum"

"Double yummy yum" she grinned, her hazel eyes flashing with mischief. Digging his elbow into his desk, he leaned closer and narrowed his gaze at Bonnie.

"I can't wait to lick the sauce right off the top" he said, a self-satisfied leer playing across his lips. Her eyes rushed to his lips, lingering there for a while before scurrying back up to the bluest eyes.

"You'll be sticking it in your mouth sooner than you think" she promised as she mirrored his move in order to have the upper hand.

"Okay, not to interrupt this riveting conversation about the yummy train to strangeville but I'd really love to have you there" Anna announced and they both looked up, seemingly having forgotten that she had been standing there.

"You can think of it as group orientation" she explained to their blank faces.

"Plus its Anna's birthday" Jeremy said and held up two fingers behind Anna's head. Bonnie couldn't quite recollect when he'd gotten there.

"Jer!" she jabbed her boyfriend's rib and rolled her eyes. Bonnie's eyes darted back to Damon and she took another sip of her coffee.

"I'm not holding you hostage on this, if you can't make it then-"

"We'll be there" Damon cut Anna off with an exasperated sigh and tossed his stress ball back into his drawer.

" _I'll_ be there" Bonnie corrected, a note of annoyance evident in her voice.

"Listen, about that other night…at your place" he began once Anna and Jeremy had left and she stopped him by lifting her hand.

"Ancient history"

"Too much wine, I think" he said opening the first three buttons of his shirt and rolling up his sleeves. She focused her eyes on his face even though her pulse raced at the mere idea of his bare skin.

"Like I said, ancient history" she waved him off and returned her attention to her laptop and her story.

"You're really gonna stand this poor sap up for Anna's birthday dinner?"

"Yup" she hummed, remembering to take out her mobile phone from her handbag so that she could text Kai and cancel their date. He was unusually quiet for a long time, picking at the keyboard before swivelling around to face her again.

"You wanna go test out your theory around lunch time today?" he asked, distracting her rhythm.

"My theory?" Bonnie shot him a look, hands poised over her laptop.

"That your jazz knowledge exceeds my mine"

She mulled it over before enquiring, "What did you have in mind?"

"There's a record store on Bleecker Street, it's been known to have some pretty great stuff"

..

Damon got behind her and peered over her shoulder at the record in her delicate hand. His cheek brushed over hers, his stubble scratching her skin as cool air from the vent above them cooled the back of his neck. His breath was warm and the slight quiver on her neck made his mind churn and these were not tender thoughts about taking strolls around Central Park but rather heated thoughts with her over the kitchen sink wearing nothing but a garter belt and stockings.

"Duke Ellington" she said, jolting him from his filthy thoughts. Damon blinked owlishly and raked a hand through his messy hair, stepping back slightly to gather his thoughts.

"I think I might go for some Miles Davis" he said, clearing his throat.

"Do you think we should get something for Anna?" Bonnie asked, tracing the corners of a record with her delicate fingers.

"We?"

"What?"

"You just referred to us as a _we_ "

"Aah, Charlie Parker, _The Complete Savoy_ "

"Stop avoiding the issue. I think it's cute that you _we'd_ us. It makes us sound like a team…or a couple" he cocked his head, nudging her with his elbow.

"There's nothing like the fresh smell of vintage vinyl and the first crackle when the needle drops on it" she brought the record to her nose and closed her brilliant eyes.

"Do _you_ want to get Anna something?" Damon asked, following her to the front of the store where the cashier sat.

"I think it would be the polite thing to do" she noted, glancing over her shoulder quickly, her brilliant eyes washing over him.

"Okay Emily Post, what did you have in mind?"

"Well, "she hummed as she fished through a dollar box on the counter. Pulling out a pink feather boa, she draped it around Damon's neck, tickling his flesh with her warm fingers and stood back to access him.

"Now all you need is a tutu and we can wrap you up in a nice pink bow and you'll be Anna's perfect gift"

"Why don't we get her one of these Nazi badges so that every time she spews one of her little Feminist propaganda speeches, she can pin it on her lapel or something?"

"This place reminds me of London" she said airily, choosing to ignore his statement.

"Yeah, what do you miss most about it?"

"I don't know. I mean its eclectic, it's vibrant. It's sort of like a Dali painting; you don't need to get it because it gets you" she opened her purse and slid her card to the cashier to pay for her record and the pink feather boa. Damon followed suit but his eyes stayed fixed to Bonnie as she lingered around the exit, scrolling down her phone.

"And I had some bloody awesome open house Sundays over there" she continued but did not look up from her task.

"Open houses?"

"It's a little thing I do on Sundays"

"You're a strange girl, Firecracker"

"What happened to Thatcher?"

"You prefer Thatcher?"

"No, I'd prefer it if you called me Bonnie which is my _actual_ name"

"Now where's the fun in that?" Damon smirked, brushing past her as they headed out the door to the throng of traffic noise.

"You realize that we have just made our first purchase together?" he asked and though she did not offer a response, her demure smile was enough for him.

Four hours later they were pushing their way through a post-work crowd at a small Indian restaurant to meet up with the rest of the gang. She felt Damon's hand on the small of her back, guiding her as they scanned the tables and the bar for their colleagues. Anna raised a hand to hail at them over the chorus of laughter and the chime of dishes inside the crowded restaurant.

"…tandoori shrimp, some lemon rice and more naan bread for the table" Katherine ordered as soon as the new couple settled down and Bonnie nodded when the server draped in a silk sari offered her a glass of wine from the bottle on the table. Jeremy sniffed the crushed garlic sprinkled on a morsel of naan bread and gave Anna a piece to taste.

"I'll have the lamb Roganjosh with basmati rice on the side" Bonnie ordered and handed the lush menu back to the waiter.

"Butter Chicken, nothing on the side" Damon made it a point to point his gaze at Bonnie as he handed the menu back to the server. They settled quickly into conversation with the rest of the group and the din of the restaurant and her sips of red wine calmed her. She listened attentively while Davina quoted a passage from a book about the Israeli conflict and how it affected the American culture. From the corner of her eye, she saw Damon relish his food with his fingers and marvelled at the sensuality of the act. He used both hands to break his naan bread into two before dipping it into his coconut dhal and pushing it into his mouth. He smiled as his eyes watered, relishing the taste. Quietly, she studied him over the rim of her glass and marvelled at the softness of his face from the flickering candle lights on their table. She was struck by an urge to curl a lock of hair behind his ear and to caress his cheek.

"Bonnie if you could have dinner with three people dead or alive, who would they be?" Katherine asked, jolting her from her hallucination about Damon. Kat held a piece of tandoori chicken on the tines of her brass fork before taking a bite.

Responding in a mechanical tone, Bonnie said "Abraham Lincoln, Doctor Maya Angelou and Billie Holiday"

"And none of those are even remotely fuckable" Katherine sighed, taking a large sip of wine from her glass. Jeremy rolled his eyes and then paused to study the contents of his plate, cautiously probing a piece of meat with his fork.

"What about you?" Bonnie glanced at Katherine.

"Give me Cary Grant any given day" she purred and turned Enzo's face so that she could nip his lip with her teeth. He smiled; his brow beaded with sweat from ingesting too much spicy food.

"I came across a book on female genital mutilation recently and the author was Abigail Benn-"Anna began and Bonnie didn't bother to look up from her plate, nonetheless she responded.

"She's my mother" she mumbled between mouthfuls. There was a hush around the table and the clatter of forks against porcelain died briefly.

"Your mother?" Anna's eyes grew wide, "The great Abigail Bennett is your mother? I attended one of her seminars at UCLA last summer where she spoke about her asylum in America and it touched my heart. She is such a champion for feminism" she explained, speaking speedily.

"Indeed" Bonnie feigned a smile as she took a sip of her wine. Leaning back in her chair, she allowed the server to clear her plate then set down a bowl of mango ice cream for her dessert.

"She's an incredible woman" Anna exclaimed, her excited eyes looking startled at this new turn of events.

"Yes she is" Bonnie replied, dying to kill the topic of her acclaimed mother.

"Speaking of incredible women, I'd like to make a toast to the birthday girl" Damon announced, rising to his feet and Bonnie's eyes travelled to him as a grateful smile touched her lips. She knew that he was loathed to do anything nice especially for Anna but she was thankful for his attempt at heroism. She mouthed a thank you before her eyes flitted over to Anna and Jeremy.

"To Anna, you're only as old as the man you feel and tadpole over here looks like he's still teething so you'll have many more years to study the ins and outs of white feminism."

"Thank you Damon" Anna rolled her eyes, a blank expression on her face.

"Anytime"

By the time the group dispersed and left the restaurant, it was raining a soft drizzle. They hung outside; shoulders hunched under flapping awnings as they finished the tail end of their conversations over a chorus of honks and screeching tires before a few of them flagged down taxi cabs and called it a night. Katherine and Enzo offered to share their cab with them but Damon told them that he and Bonnie would wait for another one.

She didn't fight him.

As the taxi pulled up to her apartment building, Damon stepped out of the car with her much to her disbelief.

"What are you doing?" Bonnie raised an eyebrow and studied him curiously.

"I'm walking you to your door" he replied nonchalantly, placing his hand on her lower back again and the fact that her body tensed to his touch did not deter him.

"You do realize that this was not a date right?" she swung a look at him, damp hair falling into her mouth as they hurried to stand under the green awning where her uniformed doorman was waiting.

"Nonetheless I had a great time" he stepped back and buried his hands in his pockets. Bonnie nodded, playing with the key in her hands.

His brows furrowed and he asked, "You'll never admit to enjoying my company will you?"

"I seem to remember a whole lot of people at the birthday dinner tonight; incidentally it's also where you made a misogynistic arse of yourself yet again"

"At your expense fair maiden" he bowed theatrically.

"I am no maiden and there are no forbidden forests here"

Lifting his eyes, he cocked an eyebrow and smirked, "Too bad I was hoping that you could spin straw into gold or that I could defend your honor and claim you with a true love's kiss"

"I bid you good-night, my lord" a smile tickled Bonnie's lips as she played along.

"Good night" he replied, stepping back into the sidewalk and the torrent of rain.

"Thank you" Bonnie called to the back of his wet head as he hailed another cab.

"Anytime" he touched a finger to his head as if he were tipping a hat.

..

Damon dashed underneath the jutted awning of his apartment building, past the lobby with its mailboxes unto the creaking staircase. He shook the rain from his hair and slipped out of his jacket and unlocked his front door, nudging it open with his elbow. He took out a box of cereal from the cabinet, a bowl, milk and a spoon from the drawer and poured himself a fresh bowl. He stood on the island eating his food and thinking back to the day he'd had from the record store to the Indian restaurant. He was beginning to like her, he thought with a rush as he washed his bowl and set it down to dry on the rack before cracking open the fridge for a beer.

Thatcher wasn't half bad when it came to repressed, perfectionist women he could have been sharing a cubicle with.

..

"I'll have a dirty martini with two olives" Bonnie told a waitress three days later as they dined in East Village. They told themselves that it was an after work thing to discuss their new column on police brutality and the black lives matter campaign.

"Can I have another two olives?" she beckoned the server again minutes later on her third sip of her martini. Damon examined her quietly over the edge of his glass of bourbon. She watched as her luminous eyes darted from the server and back to him.

"Thanks" she told the waiter when he set down a small bowl of green olives in front of her.

Finally noticing Damon's peculiar stare, she asked "What?"

"Nothing"

"You think that I'm too particular about things?"

"Oh you know me Thatcher; I like the simple things in life"

"There's nothing standard or simple about you Damon Salvatore" she smiled, popping an olive into her mouth.

"On the contrary, I had a pretty standard childhood. I grew up in a middle-class, mostly white suburb in Long Island, fished on weekends and played Frisbee with my dog in the backyard."

"Did you stay close to the coast?"

"Yeah, I could hear the waves crashing against the rocks in the evenings" the ice clinked inside his glass as he raised it to his lips.

"Are your parents still there?"

"Just my mother"

They paused when the server came and exchanged a quiet look before opening their small paper menus. She listened to Damon's order and quietly perused her own menu, pursing her lips. When the waitress finally diverted her attention back to Bonnie, she read the name on her tag and smiled broadly at her.

"Can I have the chicken salad, no tomatoes; swap the croutons for some olives, black olives not green and the dressing on the side?" she asked and handed what should really be called a pamphlet instead of a menu to the waitress.

There was that curious look again from Damon, she thought and suddenly blurted,

"What?"

"Nothing"

"You're giving me that look again?"

"Okay, you twisted my arm. I think you're a perfectionist who's obsessed with details, you're neurotic, analytical, pedantic, self-righteous, judgemental and-"

"You got all that from me ordering a salad?"

"Pretty much"

"I'm so sorry that I'm not some fly by the seat of her pants kinda girl"

"That makes two of us" he agreed, "because a fly by the seat of her pants kinda girl would have let me kiss her the other night"

" _Let_ you kiss her, what is this Uganda circa the purge?" she cried, shaking her head, "well Damon, Lord of all the beasts of New York city and the fishes in the Hudson, thank you. Thank you for the reminding me why I don't date and no it has nothing to do with the shortage of eligible lads or whatever sexist propaganda your dictatorship chooses to spew this evening."

"I prefer the nickname Big Daddy" he replied quietly, looking into his glass.

"I'm not calling you Big Daddy."

"I'm pretty sure Idi preferred that nickname too"

"You just compared yourself to the butcher of Uganda"

"So what's this thing with you and your mother?" he asked, the question seemingly coming out of left field.

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the many underlying issues with your mother"

Bonnie shook her head and guzzled her alcohol, she refused to entertain him.

"I grew up with a tree hugging, pot growing socialist for a mother. Stefan and I used to call her Rasputin behind her back" he chuckled and she assumed that it was to ease the tension and to help her open up to him.

"I don't have mommy issues; you on the other hand should probably confront your problems head on"

..

"You look happy" Sloane welcomed her to her eclectic apartment with a glass of what Bonnie assumed to be muddled, foamy white pina colada.

"I am. The column is doing great and I feel like I'm accomplishing something" she replied, picking at the parasol in the drink. Bonnie's eyes feasted over the décor, at the Frida Kahlo pictures mounted on the walls as a fist pump to Sloane's feminist ideals and the large sculpture of Parvati on a pedestal next to a wall of bookshelves.

"La Buena Vida!" Markos raised his glass for a toast when they finally sat down to enjoy the Mexican feast. Bonnie listened to the collection of discussions as she poked her mango and black bean salad with her fork while Sloane peeled the shell of her prawns to reveal lush, pink flesh. Bonnie watched in appreciation as Sloane dunked the prawn in some spicy sauce before dropping it into her mouth and licking the tips of her fingers. This act reminded her of Damon and somewhere in the recesses of her mind; she wondered what he was doing.

"Bonnie, I'd like you to meet someone" Sloane said as they enjoyed their digestif brandy shortly after their desserts. She led her to a group assembled on the velvet couches by the bookshelf.

"This is Mason Lockwood" she announced and shortly after making the introductions, she disappeared back into the thick of the crowd.

"I used to be out in L.A…you know, surfing and stuff" Mason was saying moments later on their second glass of brandy.

"So you're a surfer?"

"Nah, I run an NGO. We supply solar and wind energy to villages in the Middle East and Africa"

"Wow"

"I hear you write a political column"

"I share my byline so, "she shrugged, enjoying the smoothness of the liquor and quite inclined to go for her third glass "besides I don't want to talk about me. I think what you do is phenomenal"

"Thank you" he smiled sheepishly and she thought how silly it would be to go for a third glass of brandy and how even sillier it would be to invite Mason Lockwood home with her for a cup of coffee.

"We should do dinner sometime and you can tell me more about your solar powered energy systems" she said, choosing the safe route that she had become familiar with all her life.

Raking a hand through his short muddy blonde hair, Mason replied awkwardly, "Aah man, I'm seeing someone"

"I'm sorry" she stammered, clumsily trying to focus her eyes elsewhere. She would blame her clumsy valor on the brandy, she told herself.

"Of course if you really do want to hear about the flow of energy between the earth's surface and the sun then I'd be happy to-"

"What are you guys carrying on about?" a waif blonde joined in and Bonnie was thankful for the distraction.

"Nothing" she whispered, checking her dwindling drink.

"Solar panels and energy" Mason corrected her, gently tugging the sleeve of her white dress with his fingers. She gazed down at his hand and gulped the rest of her drink.

"I think I need more brandy" She said, scarcely looking up at him as she left him with the blonde. She could feel his eyes on her as she collected her summer coat from the hanger next to the exit and bid Marko's and Sloane good-bye.

Once outside, she pulled her cell phone out and called Caroline. After three rings, her friend picked up and Bonnie breathed a sigh of relief.

"I put myself out there and it comes back to bite me in the proverbial arse" she moaned, cradling the phone between her ear and shoulder.

"What about that guy your dad set you up with?" Caroline asked and Bonnie could hear TV noise in the background and Klaus's voice similarly on the phone to someone. She wondered if she'd caught them at a bad time.

"Are you kidding?" Bonnie spat, "At this point I'd rather curl up in bed and die"

..

The next day as she quietly nestled a hangover and caressed the keys on her laptop so as not to injure herself any further with a headache, Vicky stuck her head in the cubicle and told her that she had a visitor waiting at reception. Bonnie smoothed the wrinkled lines of her pencil skirt and followed Vicky down the hallway.

Heat crawled up into her cheeks when she saw the tall man standing before her, sleek in a pair of dark jeans and sporty jacket. She took him in with her eyes, from the dark purposefully frowzy hair to his lively grey eyes.

"I figure if Mohammed won't come to the mountain then I need to bring the mountain to Mohammed" he said before she could utter a word.

"Assalamu Alaykum" she tried to smile but it came off as a nervous sneer but he didn't seem to notice or he didn't mind.

"Doctor Hopkins told me you were interesting" he said handing her the bouquet of yellow balloons.

"Er...Thank you?"

"I'm Kai Parker" he introduced himself, wrapping his fingers around her hand, feeling the weight of it.

"Bonnie Bennett" she slipped her hand inside his, feeling the warmth of it.

..


	6. Stay a Little Longer

He brought you balloons?" Caroline exclaimed over the phone and Bonnie shrunk back at the shrill sound of her friend's voice.

"What, was he coming from some pre-labor day parade or something?" the blonde continued to bombard her with questions.

"I don't know, I thought it was cute" Bonnie shrugged her shoulder and slipped her feet into a pair of black patent pumps. She took a seat on a linen wing chair in her bedroom and traced her fingers over the supple contours of her legs.

"Did he leave the party hat at home at least?" Caroline asked and Bonnie shook her head, rising from the chair to search her small jewelry box for a pair of minimalistic earrings.

"Caroline!" she laughed softly as she adorned one ear with a black diamond stud before switching her mobile phone to the other ear so she could slip the second earring in. She stepped back to view the finished product in the mirror and teased her tousled hair with her fingers.

"Normal and eligible New York men impress you with flowers not balloons"

"Can you strap a bouquet of roses to a lawn chair and fly away somewhere infinite like in that old animated movie?" Bonnie sighed, leaning over the mirror and ringing her eyes with dark eyeliner.

"Are you talking about the movie Up?" Caroline asked and Bonnie wrinkled her nose at her reflection. She picked up an eye makeup container and dusted grey powder over her eyelids.

"Yup" she replied, slowly and carefully creating a smoky look.

"You watched Up?" Caroline cried and Bonnie could tell that her friend was holding back laughter.

"Yes I watched Up"

"I didn't figure you for the cartoon reading type let alone the type to watch an animated film"

"And why is that?" she asked, leaning even closer to the mirror to examine her eye shadow. She liked the glossy sheen it lent to her eyes and it made her skin look healthy and dewy.

"Because you're the type that'll explain a joke until it loses its humor" Caroline laughed.

"Hey, I can be plenty playful and funny" she countered, her brow marred by a frown.

"What time is your dinner date?"

"Nine o'clock and talking to you is making me late"

"Where're you meeting him?"

"His place, he's sending a town car to fetch me" Bonnie pulled her drawer and pulled out a tube of peach gloss. She strolled over to her walk in closet, the black Chantilly lace dress skimming her curves to perfection. She paused in front of a gilded full length mirror inside her closet and ran her finger along the scalloped neckline of the fluted dress and admired the wonders it did for her décolletage. Turning around, she viewed the dress's low V-shaped back and her back muscles moved beneath the glare of her bedroom lights.

"Hmm cooking dinner and providing car service, he's really smooth" Caroline drawled and Bonnie rolled her eyes, chuckling.

"Okay, I'm hanging up now"

..

Her smile was contained when Kai opened the door for her but the softness in his blue-grey eyes unravelled it.

"Hi" she greeted, the smile still resting on her lips.

"Hey" he leaned against the doorframe and dragged his eyes down her body in an obvious gesture. Her pulse hastened slightly but she fought through the knots in her belly and smiled sheepishly at him.

"I brought you some wine." She said, lifting the bottle to eye level.

"Please come in." Kai stepped aside and gestured with his hand. He smelled great, she thought as she brushed past him, manly and potent.

"Nice place, it has a good structure." She commented while he eased her coat off her shoulders. His fingers teased the bare skin there and she wasn't sure if was intentional or an error on his part but nonetheless, she froze.

"That's what the realtor told me" Kai said, unaware of her nerves or the effect his light touch had on her.

"I hope you don't mind the boxes, I'm still unpacking." He explained as they moved past the foyer toward lounge.

"So you're settling well?" she asked, her keen eyes roving around the pre-war apartment.

"Yes. You look amazing by the way." His fingertips climbed up her back, one vertebra at a time as he ushered her inside the lounge with its high ceilings.

"Thank you" Bonnie nodded and swallowed past the knot in her throat. She was dying for a drink to ease the tension in her shoulders and the anxiety in her gut. Her eyes fell to the black grand piano sitting close to a row of bay windows overlooking the city.

"Nice piano" she said, walking toward it. She ran her fingers over the keys and pressed a few notes.

"You play?" Kai asked, arms crossed against his chest as he watched her.

"Much to my parent's distress, no." Bonnie laughed, glancing at him over her shoulder.

"I could always teach you"

"Then you'd be privy to my performance anxiety"

"I have Xanax for that" his smile broadened, his bottom lip caught between his teeth.

"I think I'll settle for a glass of wine" her eyes drifted to the fat, dimpled leather couches and the smoke rising from a lone ashtray to her left before settling back on his face.

"You wanna choose the wine?" he gestured to a wine rack next to a stack of books that were waiting to be slotted onto the bookshelf on one side of the room.

"I trust your judgment."

"You might want to seek a second opinion?" Kai laughed and strode to the wines, pulling out a two bottles of white wine.

"Is that a little doctor humor?" Bonnie arched an eyebrow, her lips edging into a slight smile.

"It sounds corny doesn't it?"

"Yeah."

"It sounded better inside my head." He chuckled and pressed play on his remote control. Sam Smith's music filled the room, wafting from surround sound speakers hidden behind the walls and she nearly jumped out of her skin when flames began flickering in the gas fireplace. Kai continued to maneuver his remote control and she noticed that the overhead lights had dimmed. He was certainly intent on creating a scene, she thought as he led her to a pair of French doors that opened to the dining room's balcony.

He had a small table set up with a white table cloth and flickering candles. A shiver ran through her when he pulled out a chair of hair and she nodded her gratitude. It was all too much for a first date and as impressive as it all was, she couldn't help that her nerves jangled at the enormity of the evening. When he disappeared back into the apartment, Bonnie swung her head toward the star spangled sky and took a deep breath. She heard the rustle of his shirt and smelled the aroma of sweet figs before she opened her eyes.

"There you go" Kai smiled, a pair of dimples denting his cheeks as he set down a bowl of artichokes, fig and parmesan salad in front of her.

"I see you've been slaving away in the kitchen all day" Bonnie laughed and snagged a linen napkin from the table, placing it on her lap.

"Let's hope the final product meets your approval" he took a seat and laid a napkin over his lap before taking a hearty sip from his glass. Slowly, he drizzled lemon olive oil over his salad and offered her the stainless steel can with a spout.

"You could serve me peanut butter on toast and it would meet with my approval" she chuckled lightly, baptizing her salad with the oil. She picked at the portions with the tines of her salad fork before slipping a few leaves into her mouth.

"What's it like working for my father?" Bonnie asked after swallowing, lifting her eyes to meet his.

"Doctor Hopkins's a great mentor and he has a wicked way of keeping one's ego in check" he winked at her, taking another mouthful of parmesan and artichoke.

Smirking, she poised her fork over her plate, "Don't tell me you have a colossal ego"

"Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no lies." Kai grinned, picking up his glass but still watching her face over the candle light. He swirled the wine inside the glass for few second before taking another sip.

"I think you need a healthy dose of self-esteem to become a functioning surgeon, not to mention a functioning human being" he added, staring intently at her.

"Interesting deduction" she shied her eyes away from him and focused on piling morsels of food on her fork. When she managed to look back at him, her cheeks were flushed. She took a few more sips of wine and smiled clumsily at him. The wine was dry, crisp, and fruity. It tasted phenomenal paired with the figs in the salad and Bonnie savored it on her tongue before she swallowed.

"It is one of Maslow's needs after all" he chuckled, his grey eyes sparkling and she watched the bob of his Adam's apple as he swallowed his wine.

The next course was wild bass with seasonal vegetables and as Kai refreshed her wine glass, she realized that she wasn't having an awful time. She found Kai to be sexy, intelligent, youthful and he had a feisty craving for a spirited debate. She cut a thin slice of wild striped bass and sampled a juicy bite before taking another long sip from her glass.

"Okay, I am thoroughly impressed. This is really good" Bonnie exclaimed between mouthfuls.

"Thank you" he smiled sheepishly, raising his eyes to her face.

"My father didn't tell me that you were somewhat of a master chef"

"I try"

"You sure you didn't smuggle this in from some Michelin restaurant?"

"I promise. I just love to cook"

"How does a full time neurosurgeon find the time to take culinary lessons?"

"Let's just say that a little boy growing up in Oregon had to fend for himself. My dad was usually too busy running his company so I had to take care of myself"

"Interchangeable maids, babysitters, psychiatrists…yeah I know all about that life" Bonnie chuckled dryly.

"Do you think you would have turned out differently had you grown up in one of those families with Sunday dinners as a family tradition as opposed to Tuesdays with the shrink, cocktail hour and tennis on Saturdays?"

"Yeah," her face bloomed before morphing into a wry smile, "how about you?"

"I hate mundane rituals and my family is too dysfunctional"

"All families are dysfunctional in some way"

"The Parker's take the trophy" he smiled and checked his watch, a sporty Galactic with a trophy black dial and leather straps.

"Expecting another date?" she teased, corking an eyebrow.

"Nah, you're all the company I need" he smiled, rising to his feet and squeezed her shoulder with his hand as he walked past her. Dessert was small walnut brownies with vanilla ice cream and a small serving of sun-dried dessert wine. They spoke about London and the music shows they've been to and Bonnie discovered that they had the same love for surrealist art.

"You have a little something on your cheek" Kai smiled, motioning to the fleck of pastry on her cheek.

"Thanks" her cheeks flushed pink as she wiped said pastry from her cheek. As the evening wore down, he walked her to the door while his driver waited down stairs. They stood at the threshold of his door with his fingers tracing the side of her face until they cupped her chin.

"Thank you for a wonderful evening" he whispered, dragging his eyes from her lips back to her eyes.

"I had a great time" Bonnie replied softly, her eyes falling to his lush lips.

"Can I kiss you?" Kai asked as a grin washed over his face and before she could respond to the ridiculous middle-school question, he leaned over and kissed her lips. His kiss was warm, unrushed and left the pads of her fingers tingling as they splayed over his warm chest.

"Good night." She purred when they finally broke the kiss.

..

Three days later she was stuck inside an air-conditioned car with Klaus and Caroline as they made their way to the Hamptons. Driving through a mesh of traffic, Caroline grabbed the steering wheel for Klaus while his hands left it temporarily. He was shouting into the mobile phone, arguing about some rape-homicide case from what Bonnie could tell. She was too busy on her phone to pay attention, too busy engaging in a battle of wits with her dad about her date with Kai. He was yet to call her after three days but he had sent her a few basic texts. They weren't necessarily texts about the weather but he still hadn't asked her out on a second date.

She wasn't even sure she wanted a second date. They obviously both led busy lives and she wondered where she would fit the relationship.

..

Klaus punched the code into the security system while the girls put away their weekend luggage. Caroline showed Bonnie her bedroom upstairs and she smiled when she saw the ocean view.

"Wes is trying to get me an anchor position at Fox News" Caroline said, tearing Bonnie's thoughts away from the peaceful view of the ocean.

"Don't let Jenna push you out of ANN, at least there you have a platform to voice your own opinion" she said, glancing at Caroline before her eyes flitted back to the expansiveness of the ocean.

"No, I don't. I'm an anchor, I state the facts and no one has an interest in my opinion" the blonde shook her head, biting her lower lip before bending down to slip off her sling-back scandals.

"Care" Bonnie looked at her, brows creased as she tried to read Caroline's flushed expression. She looked worn-out, Bonnie thought.

"You're so lucky to have your column. It's doing great by the way"

"Thank you" Bonnie said evenly, running her hand up and down Caroline's back.

"Have you discussed this with Klaus?" she asked, noticing the blonde's glassy eyes.

"Klaus has no business meddling in my career; we're not married and even if we were…" her sniff morphed into a sigh.

"Don't get me wrong, I love him very much but he's his own person and so am I" she quickly added and Bonnie let out a breath.

"I get it, trust me"

When they made their way back downstairs to Klaus, he was seated on a bar stool with an open bottle of beer in front of him.

"Seems Stefan is bringing an extra guest," he sorted through junk-mail as he spoke, barely looking up from his task. Caroline brushed past him to open the fridge and fished out a pair of cold beers. She gestured to Bonnie who nodded even though she was not an avid fan of beer, at least not the American brands.

"Bonnie you'll have to share your bedroom with Stefan's brother." Klaus said pointedly and swung his head up to look at her.

"Damon?" they cried in unison with Caroline.

"Yeah" Klaus replied mildly, roping Caroline with one arm after the blonde had handed Bonnie her beer. They clinked the necks of their bottles together before Caroline took a swig.

"I'm not sharing a room with Damon Salvatore" Bonnie cried, chin thrust out in protest. She couldn't believe that her supposed friends where throwing her into the lion's den like this.

"The house has four bedrooms and the other three bedrooms are already taken. Stefan and Rebekah will have one room, Marcel and Sophie the other one and then there's me and Caroline." He explained, "Would you have poor Damon sleeping on the couch in the lounge?"

Bonnie stared at them as Klaus spoke, she could feel her face heating up as Caroline ruffled her boyfriend's curly hair.

"I'm sure he'd feel right at home slumming it on the couch." She hissed, annoyed with Klaus's crooked smirk and Caroline's sweet demeanor.

"I know you're too considerate and practical to let the poor guy sleep out here by himself." Caroline said softly and smiled much to Bonnie's growing impatience with the two lovers.

"And I bet he's scared of the dark." Klaus added with a pout.

"Yes, there's that." Caroline tore her gaze away from Bonnie to kiss the lout.

"It's your house, your rules" Bonnie finally sighed and took a pull from her beer. She'd play by their rules for now but it didn't mean she had to like it and she was pretty sure than Damon would hate it.

..

Damon dragged his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose before taking them off completely and then slipped them into his shirt pocket. His eyes took in the cottage perched on the cliff overlooking a glittering ocean. He tilted his head to let the sun bake his eyelids and warm his skin.

This was exactly what he needed, he thought. Sure Enzo had been disappointed to learn that he wasn't going to be spending the Labor Day weekend in the city but he really needed this calm to centre himself after the whirlwind of the past of few weeks.

The fact that Bonnie Bennett was also going to be present didn't hurt either. He certainly didn't mind an entire weekend with her. Helping Stefan lug their bags out of the trunk, Damon followed Rebekah and his brother up the steep, sandy pathway to the cottage. The place was redolent with the smell of barbecue and the tangy aromas of leafy salads. He set his bags down on the floor as Klaus and Caroline walked into the room to welcome them. The couple was already toting around a couple of beers and Klaus handed him one before slapping his back with his hand in an affectionate gesture. Finally Bonnie came into the room, walking shortly behind Caroline, a frown marring her brow as customary. It was a look she wore quite well, Damon thought with a smirk.

"Thatcher" he greeted, his eyes travelling the length of her body. He savored her toned legs in a pair of white shorts with roll up cuffs before drifting back up to her faded denim shirt. Just the mere sight of her was making him salivate.

"We have a situation" she said firmly, whisking him away from the rest of the group before he could even think or protest. When they were finally out of ear shot, she untangled her arm away from his and ran a shaky hand through her gloriously tousled hair.

"We certainly do" Damon pointed at the first three buttons of her shirt which were suspiciously left undone. Bonnie's eyes darted down to her chest and the lacy bra peaking out from her shirt.

"I know you have the attention span of a gold fish but can you please focus long enough for us to sort out our living situation?" she snapped her fingers and directed his attention back to her flushed face.

"There's only one bedroom left and I've already taken it." She announced and Damon got the feeling that the issue would not be up for debate.

"So there's no room at the inn?" his eyebrows quirked in amusement and a slow smiled eased across his face.

"No, so you might as well go look for a stable" Bonnie kept her voice stern and this delighted him even more. There was something about stern, argumentative Bonnie that drove him wild and fuelled his fantasies.

"Why don't you go look for a stable?" he asked, toying with her.

"Because you're the poster boy for horsing around and I was here first" she raised a hand to her hip, "Were you even invited?"

"Yes…of course I was invited" Damon stammered and rubbed the back of his neck. Was it that obvious that he was a gate crasher? That he'd practically begged bobble-head, otherwise known as Rebekah for an invite this weekend?

"You're lying" Bonnie narrowed her eyes and gave him that unnerving look she liked to give distrustful people.

"Look, why don't we just share the room?" he suggested, crossing his arms against his chest in a rather obvious defensive gesture.

"No" she glared at him, unflinching.

"Why, I mean this place is practically the Noah's Hamptons Ark, there's a couple in every bedroom"

"We're not a couple and I don't feel very inclined to share my bedroom with you"

"Just like you didn't feel inclined to share _your_ column or _your_ cubicle with me"

"Watch your tone!" she hissed and closed the small gap between them.

"Where am I going to find a hotel in the Hamptons on a Labor Day weekend?" he pouted, trying to tear his gaze away from her lush lips but the way so incredibly close, all he needed to do was lean down and-

"Why are you even here, Damon?" she jerked him from his thoughts and he took a step back, biting his lower lip.

"I wanted to breathe some fresh sea air and I hear Oprah's around the Hamptons this weekend"

"We need to reach a resolution"

"Done" he smiled, walking away from her.

"Where are you going?"

"To see a man about a horse" Damon simply said over his shoulder. He had no intention of finding accommodation in the impossibly booked Hamptons. He would have to an idiot to pass up an opportunity like this.

This was a game changer.

..

Damon's wasn't going to back down, Bonnie knew that as she watched Sophie clutch onto the wooden butcher top, her hips swaying to music. She threw her head back, her dark curls grazing her shoulder blades and mimed to the song. Bonnie loved how unbridled and confident French women could be. She always conformed, always played by the rules but not Sophie; at least it didn't look that way. Bonnie had leaved up to her parent's expectations but her world was void of color except for her passion for politics and writing.

" _Do I move you, is it thrilling…?"_

Nina Simone sang and Sophie moved while Caroline chopped a few cauliflower stems on the wooden cutting board. Smells from the boiling pots infiltrated the air and Bonnie eyed Sophie's dance over the edge of her martini glass. It was her second after the two bottles of beer but who was counting now that Salvatore was here.

" _When I touch you do you quiver from your head down to you liver?"_

Sophie ran her hands over her head, fingers raking through her dark tresses but her hips didn't stop undulating. They were talking about something but Bonnie had lost track of the conversation. Caroline added a couple of candied walnuts, sliced red-skinned apples, grapes and celery to the bowl and tossed the salad.

"Do you mind checking on the lobster Bon?" the blonde asked, indicating to the ringing mobile phone in her hand, "I need to take this"

"Sure" she replied, rising from her bar stool to open the pot as a column of steam shot into the air.

"Caroline tells me you're in publishing" she addressed Sophie after closing the lid and slipping back to the barstool.

"I used to be in publishing, now I just play happy homemaker" Sophie replied, toying with a barbecued linked sausage with the tines of her fork.

"Marcel and I picked straws to decide who would stay home and raise Louis after he was born. I drew the shorter straw." She shrugged, finally cutting a piece and lifting it to her mouth.

"I'm just yanking your chain." She chuckled, after taking a swallow "We figured that he being a trader at a well-known investment bank would be the better option as the breadwinner. He earned the higher salary and I was fine with taking one for the team"

"You view your state as being a stay at home mom as taking one for the team?" Bonnie quipped, fishing her martini for the last olive.

"It would interest you to know that Marcel left Wall Street two years after I quit my job to become an art broker. These days he earns a quarter of what he earned at the bank" she defended herself, picking up a half finished glass of wine and refilling it with a dazzling red merlot.

"I was a junior editor for Harper Magazine with incredible growth potential… so yes; I took one for the team"

"For what it's worth, I think being a stay at home mom is an honorable thing to do. I wish my mom had been that brave or that selfless" Bonnie said quietly.

"I regret my decision every day. I can never re-join the work force because there are younger, hungrier and sexier women willing to do anything to get to the top of the corporate ladder and who can blame them, corporate jets and fashion shows are a nice incentive."

When Bonnie said nothing, Sophie looked up and asked, "You think that makes me a terrible mother?"

"No, everyone's situation is different"

"Thank you"

"Okay, I'm back what'd I miss?" Caroline smiled, re-entering the kitchen.

"Looks like Ben Carson is taking Iowa" Bonnie replied and motioned to the mounted TV.

"No political talk this weekend unless we're voting for the legalization of pot "the blonde laughed, plucking something out of her tee-shirt pocket.

"Is that what I think it is?"

"I don't know, I think the legalization of pot takes the fun out of it. Its kinda like legalizing sex workers." Sophie teased, taking another slug from her glass.

"Except for the part where legalizing sex workers helps prevent sex trafficking" Caroline countered and examined the rolled pot between her fingers. She brought it to her nose and sniffed it.

"Tell that to the underage girls from India, Africa and Russia who are sold to sex slave markets" Bonnie said, watching Caroline's nimble fingers.

"But at least with decriminalization they get a platform to fight sex trafficking" the blonde argued pointing at Sophie for a lighter.

"Let's not kid ourselves, these girls are abused, victimized, raped, dehumanized, their passports get confiscated and they strip them of character, nationality, family and self. If you decriminalize prostitution you give more power to the puppet masters who control these markets" Bonnie's face was beginning to heat up as she spoke and she had to remind herself to calm down because this was just a discussion between friends.

"I disagree; I think licensing escorts will finally give them a voice and the recognition they need to make a difference" Sophie replied, handing Caroline a lighter.

As the three of them rose from their chairs, Bonnie reminded them and lifted her finger, "Prostitution and sex trafficking are two separate issues"

"Putting a spotlight on certain human right's topics usually helps those issues" Caroline opened the refrigerator to retrieve a bottle of vodka and cranberry juice.

"Let's agree to disagree about this particular issue" Bonnie said as the blonde handed her a bottle of cranberry juice. They were about to head out to the sunny terrace when Rebekah barged inside the room, followed by Stefan.

"Okay, I am ready to get this party started!" Rebekah laughed, tying her shirttails in a knot at her waist.

It was going to be a crazy weekend or as crazy as this group could get, Bonnie thought with a smirk.

..

"How was your dinner with balloon guy?"

"Dinner with Kai Parker was great, thank you" Bonnie replied, moving along the sun dappled porch. She lingered underneath a blotch of sunlight before sliding back under a net of shadows. The crisp wine dulled the chatter emanating from inside the house and Damon's eyes held hers. The hairs on her forearm tingled when he looked at her like that. His blue eyes appeared bottomless and her sharp breathing betrayed the features she had tried to school.

"You think you might have dinner with him again?" he asked and heat spread to her cheeks as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Perhaps"

"Spidey kinda seems like a bunny boiler to me."

"Spidey?" she furrowed her eyebrows and shoved both hands inside the front pockets of her shorts.

"Kai Parker…Peter Parker"

"Potato, potahto." Bonnie shook her head, hiding her smile "you and your pedestrian monikers"

An uncomfortable silence expanded between them as she waited for him to say something. It was almost dusk and by evening they had to settle the matter of the single bedroom.

"Are you really going to stay?" Bonnie asked, her voice sounding too hoarse for her liking. He waited, lips pressed together as he studied his empty plate before lifting his eyes to her anxious face.

"Look, Thatcher we're both adults and we can be grown up about this but if you're that uncomfortable with sharing a room with me then-"

"You promise to respect my rules and boundaries?" she cut him off, catching him off-guard.

"You have rules and boundaries? You don't say!" Damon teased but his face morphed into an earnest expression when he saw the concern in her eyes.

"Yes, I swear to respect your rules and your boundaries" he said quietly.

..

After dinner Damon settled into the bedroom and packed his things away. He hung his shirts with Bonnie's, the fabric of the clothes touching elegantly. She was still downstairs with the rest of the gang in an effort to avoid him, he presumed. When she finally drifted back up to the room, she found him lying on his back with a glass of bourbon balanced on his chest, hands laced behind his back.

She circled the bed for a bit finally pausing in front of the wide open French windows leading out to the balcony and the view of the giant sea.

"What's this, your little black book?" Bonnie finally spoke, picking up a book he had set down on a table close to the window.

"It's my journal"

"You keep a diary?"

"A journal, there's a difference" he defended himself, his voice rising a decimal or two but her expression remained neutral.

"You're such a wanker" she teased and Damon swore than he saw a glimmer of mischief behind her green eyes.

"You know what you need?" he levered up on his shoulders, setting his glass aside on the nightstand.

"Enlighten me" she raised an eyebrow, setting his journal back down on the table.

"You just need to bang one out" his smile was lazy as he scratched his torso, the hem of his t-shirt rising just enough to show his navel. Bonnie shifted her gaze before she could behold his lean and taut torso.

"Bang one out?" she asked, clearing her throat. She dragged her gaze from his torso and back to his face.

"You know, fuck someone, and loosen up"

"Fucking some wanker will help me loosen up, where'd you read that GQ?"

"And who is this candidate?"

"Sorry Thatcher but I'm not gonna bang you" his smile widened and he caught her licking her bottom lip.

"Unless you really really need me to" Damon teased, dropping his gaze down to her chest and her now fully buttoned shirt.

"Can we please stop using the word bang? Because it sounds so derogatory" She made a show of checking her watch before her eyes darted back to the door.

"Okay" he agreed, his grin now spreading to his eyes.

"You know what you lack?" she asked, maintaining her glare on his face.

"Yeah?" he asked, sitting up, his elbows resting on his thighs.

"Self awareness, perhaps if you were more enlightened you wouldn't feel the need to fuck for sport and by the way, you're certainly no Jake Gyllenhaal"

"Here" he nudged a bottle of bourbon toward her and waggled his eyebrows.

"I'm going downstairs"

"Great, I'll come down after I bang out this e-mail real quick" he teased, patting a laptop seated beside him on the bed.

"You're incorrigible"

"You're bang on but that's why you love me"

..

When Bonnie ventured back downstairs, she found her group of friends on the patio passing a pair of joints between the six of them.

"If we live in a democracy, shouldn't we have a say on how government spends its foreign aid budget. I mean that's out tax dollar at work." Klaus was talking, barely taking a pause to take a puff before passing the joint to Caroline.

"Well it's officially the end of summer in New York." Bonnie chipped in with a sigh, plopping on a chair across from Rebekah and Stefan. The blonde was perched on Stefan's lap, her head resting on his shoulder. Marcel nudged Bonnie's arm and handed her a joint which she took reluctantly until Caroline winked at her. Slowly, she took a drag off the joint and looked over the group attentively. After taking another quick drag, she gave the blunt to Rebekah.

Rebekah extended her hand, taking the offered joint before announcing with a smile to no one in particular, "Now seems a good a time as any."

"We have an announcement to make…" she followed her statement and took a deep breath, exchanging a look with Stefan before the both broadcasted, "We're getting married!"

"Why?" Sophie shrieked with a horrified laugh.

"I think what Sophie meant to say was congratulations." Marcel patted his wife's knee, a reassuring smile directed at the excited couple. Bonnie nodded to him and smiled at Sophie amidst the excitement, pondering when exactly Sophie had turned into a mean girl. She wondered if she'd always been a mean girl, the uber ice-cold queen at Harper magazine or if her growing resentment toward her family had driven her to such great lengths.

"Congratulations!" Klaus exclaimed, giving Stefan a bear hug and an affectionate slap on the back.

"What a beautiful ring!" Caroline gushed, snatching up Rebekah's hand so that she could access the engagement ring a little closer. A square halo of white diamonds glinted in the light and the women cooed.

"And he picked it out all by himself." Rebekah noted with pride.

"How did he ask?" Bonnie asked trying to sound as enthused as the others.

With a toss of hair and a chuckle, Rebekah responded "Over a beautifully prepared breakfast in bed. Never mind that the bed was strewn with legal pads and case files but…it was beautiful."

"We're so happy for you" everyone exclaimed, reluctant to leave the huddle.

..

Damon traced the source of the smell with his eyes and found the group outside. They were wild and boisterous, obviously excited about something either than the blunts they were sucking on. He smiled because it felt like high school all over again.

"You're just in time!" Marcel beckoned him over.

"Your brother's getting married." Klaus laughed, patting Damon's back as he brushed past him to head to the kitchen. Damon's stomach clenched, his blue eyes darting from the crowd around the happy couple and back to the kitchen. Still dazed, he followed Klaus into the kitchen and watched him dig a couple of beers out of the fridge. Klaus tossed him a bottle and watched as Damon popped the lid, brows knitted and eyes focused on the task at hand.

"You good?" he asked, tapping his beer against Damon's before opening it.

"Great." Damon grumbled, taking a swig and another before clearing his throat. He could still hear the voices sounding outside, laughter punctuated by shrieks carrying inside to assault his ears. Leaning against the kitchen island, he lifted the bottle for another sip.

After securing a few more beers and a chilled bottle of white wine for the ladies, they migrated back to the patio for more celebratory drinks.

"I'd like to make a toast." Damon cleared his throat, clanking the side of his bottle with a fork. Everyone looked up at him, waiting with anticipation and for a moment he thought back to the Thanksgiving dinners in Long Island with Rasputin and Stefan when they had to give speeches about what they were thankful for each year.

"To the death of hope." Damon lifted his glass, unable to hide his smirk.

Bonnie traded a glance with Caroline when Damon perched himself on the arm rest of her chair. He sat, squaring an ankle over one knee and draped an arm around the back of her chair. Wedging a blunt between her lips, Bonnie took another long comfortable inhale before passing it onto Damon.

"Thanks." He smiled, his gaze dropping to her mouth before coasting back to the joint in his hand. He studied the red lipsticks marks around the butt of the blunt and touched them to his lips. He couldn't take his eyes off her mouth as she talked and his mouth reeled from the idea of tasting her.

There was more conversation, more whales of laughter, more beer, more wine and one last joint before someone came up with the idea of skinny-dipping in the ocean.

..

They raced down to the beach, tearing off their clothes with each stumble on the wet sand. Leaving a trail of their discarded clothing and footprints behind, they loped into the water laughing and screaming as waves licked their legs.

..

Later they emerged from the water, moonlit limbs moving like ghost in the sultry evening as they sprinted back toward the cottage. Someone had the bright idea to start a bonfire and make smores on the beach but she was fatigued, wet and didn't feel like staying up all night much less talking with Damon all night. She snuck off to her bedroom while everyone else was looting the cupboards for ingredients for the smores.

Bonnie had just stepped into the dark room when she heard the door click open and shut behind her. A shaft of moonlight fell across the bed and when she whirled around to face who ever had followed her to the room, she stood eyes wide open, frozen on the spot.

"Damon" she breathed, blinking owlishly in the dimness of the room.

"You done for the evening?" he asked, the huskiness in his voice surprising him.

"I just came to change into something dry." She replied, moving deeper into the room, her hands around the hem of her damp shirt, water from her hair pooling onto her shoulders. She could feel him moving and breathing behind her and the closer he moved, the more her heart raced. When she felt his hand on her shoulder, she turned around slowly and found his gaze pinning her to the wall.

"What're you doing?" she asked breathlessly but he didn't offer a response.

His hands rested on her hips while her hand teased the hem of his shirt before fisting it in her hand. Gently cupping her chin with one hand, he nipped her bottom lip with his teeth before swallowing the moan that escaped her mouth. He kissed her again, threading his fingers in her hair and pulling her closer to him. Slowly she lifted his shirt off over his head and bared his chest. Breathing hard and fast against his shivering flesh, Bonnie closed her mouth around one of his nipples and sent shivers down his body.

"Shit!" he cursed before fisting his hand in her hair and reclaiming her mouth with his again. When she eased down his zipper, the warmth of her hands lingered on his skin making his cock throb. He groaned when she finally eased his jeans down his legs and unable to wait any longer, he slipped a hand under her shirt, stroking her lace covered breast before easing the straps down her shoulders. A cacophony of voices and music drifted in from outside the room before disappearing out into the night toward the waiting beach. Beyond the voices, beyond the ringing laughter, the music and the sound of the roaring waves, there was just their beating hearts and breathless moans.

Now. Here. This room. This was all that mattered.

Damon unbuttoned her shirt one button at a time, his eyes never leaving hers. He could feel the tension in her body everytime he exposed new bits of skin. He lifted her left leg to his shoulder and rested his hands on the wall above her head.

When he finally lifted her in his arms, she wrapped her thighs around his hips and clung onto him.

He stretched her out on the bed, giving her a slight wink before lowering himself on top of her. His tongue followed the line of her rib cage and she let out a shuddering breath, arching her back to the point of nearly jumping off the bed. He kissed his way down the length of her torso, relishing her taste and her responsive moans. He dragged his open mouth over her lace covered mound before teasing her panties to the side.

"Fuck!"

Gritting her teeth as pleasure shot through her, she dragged her nails across his back and seized the back of his head drawing him closer to her.

"Please" She whimpered as he sucked in her clit, thrusting his tongue inside her, savouring and lapping her heat.

He lifted himself off her to retrieve a condom from his luggage but by the time he turned back, she was already passed out.

..


	7. Dont Ask, Dont Tell

' _I refuse to sink'_ the message was written on his coffee mug, right below the picture of a red anchor. He traced his thumb around the nautical stripes round the mug and took another sip. The air smelled clean, fresh and salty as he stared out across the ocean at a sailboat bobbing on the water.

His little brother was getting married. Stefan had lost his mind.

Damon glanced over his shoulder at the cottage. He could hear their voices as the house woke up to a new day. The sun beat down his back while the sand slipped between his toes. He swiped at his hair, digging his toes in the sticky, wet grains of white sand. He was still admiring the hints of green in the early morning sky when he spotted Bonnie jogging along the beach. He smiled at the sight of her, struck by how good she looked with her lithe form running alongside lapping waves that rolled onto the pebbled shore. When she caught sight of him, she paused, hands on her hips and looked out into the ocean as it contemplating if she'd rather deal with him or plunge into the deep blue.

Damon winched, shifting his weight on his left leg and waited for her to decide. With her wind tossed hair, she made her way toward him.

"You look sensational." He started in, clearing his throat.

"Thanks. I hear coffee stunts your growth" She panted, gesturing to the cup in his hand. He admired the blush burning her cheeks and wondered if she had been blushing like that when he lapped her up last night. The memory flooded his senses and he couldn't shake it off.

"Listen, Damon about last night…I...uhm...I mean, you know…I…uh…"

"We didn't do anything. You passed out before we got the chance." He shrugged his shoulders and stared into his coffee.

"You know how I feel about you." He added quietly, shooting her an easy glance.

"Damon" she protested, tilting her head to the side and it took all the strength he had not to reach out and touch her, kiss her like he had done last night.

"And you know how I feel about the situation." She stepped back to avoid contact with him, "I don't wanna complicate things."

"Right, you don't do colleagues."

"And I just want to focus on my career." She replied then paused, chewing the corner of her bottom lip.

"Great." She pasted a smile on her face and that gripped him worse than if she'd flipped him a off for some reason.

"This wont change things between us, will it?" she asked.

"Never."

"Were you faking?"

"What?"

"I just wanna know, were you faking last night when you were so wet you were practically begging for me to fuck you?"

"I never beg."

"Right, it must have been someone else wanting me to fuck her blind last night."

"Blame the pot."

"Blame the pot." He nodded, taking another sip of his coffee. He didn't know which was worse, the feeling of sinking in a deep black pit that suddenly gripped him or watching her go, sunlight eating away at her silhouette until she was just a haze of white light.

..

Bonnie took the steps leading to the cottage two at a time.

She blinked, her eyes adjusting from the bright sunlight outside the house. The smell of freshly brewed coffee wafted around the kitchen. The process of cooking was adding even more heat to the already cramped kitchen. She crossed the floor nearly bumping into Marcel who was pouring syrup in every indentation on the waffles on his plate; next to him was a grumpy looking Klaus peeling a banana. Bonnie skipped the carefully arranged row of cereal boxes, a platter of fresh fruit and made a bee-line for the meat selections. She snatched up a small plate and shook her head when Klaus offered her a beer from the permanently open refrigerator.

"You want some waffles, Bon?" Caroline asked, the soft glow of morning lighting up her blonde hair. The coffee machine hissed behind the blonde and she picked up a mug from the countertop, filling it up with the frothy brew. Bonnie watched as Caroline lifted the mug to her lips and contemplated the idea of ingesting coffee. She felt fresh and alert with a bounce in her step and after last night's fiasco she had needed to go for the run and get her mind right.

"It's going to be a long day of drinking so you need a significant base." Caroline explained while she filled up a fresh cup for Bonnie.

Taking her cup from Caroline, she suggested "I was thinking more like something spicy?"

"We're grilling up some burgers for lunch." Klaus told her as he shuffled past his girlfriend, digging the pockets of his sand splattered jeans for something.

"What does everyone think about a sand castle contest or a sea-shell scavenger hunt?" Caroline announced to a chorus of groans.

"Morning!" Sophie tumbled into the kitchen in a dishevelled mess of dark hair and sweatpants. She pulled out one of the stools from the kitchen island and plopped down on it, burying her face in her hands.

"You know what I feel like; a braised pork sandwich with extra fat." She moaned, red-rimmed eyes peeking out between her fingers. When she caught sight of a flushed looking Bonnie blowing on her coffee, Sophie narrowed her eyes and wrinkled her face.

"Did you go for a jog?" she queried.

"Yup."

"Who the fuck are you, wonder-woman?" she squealed, swiping a hand through her hair before swinging a look at her husband who was poised over a tablet on the kitchen island.

"What you doing?" she asked.

"Skyping with Louis and Jane." Marcel shrugged before sliding the tablet across to her, "Hey, you wanna speak to Louis?"

"Would you like an omelette?" Rebekah asked Stefan as he entered the kitchen in navy sweatpants and a white t-shirt. She lifted the edges of an omelette on a pan before tossing it onto a waiting plate. Offering her a big grin, he draped an arm around her shoulder and kissed the top of her head.

"I'm gonna try and see if I can find Damon." He replied, tilting her chin and placing a series of kisses on her lips. He ran his hand over her back while she rested her head on his shoulder.

With another glance at the couple, Bonnie offered "Damon's outside."

Klaus, who had disappeared back up the stairs for a t-shirt, came sprinting back into the kitchen and called out "Okay, I'm heading out for a greasy burger. Who's with me?"

"Seriously?" Caroline raised a questioning eyebrow over the rim of her mug.

Poking out his bottom lip in mock sadness, he said "I love you but I'm hung-over like a bitch and need some serious fat in my system."

"You're gonna clog your arteries." Caroline argued even though she was already smiling against his mouth as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

"I'm sure we can find a way of working it all off." Klaus promised and Bonnie speared a forkful of waffles, careful not to glance over her shoulder to where Damon was still standing outside.

..

Damon gave the bedroom door a few taps before stepping inside. He paused on the threshold, one hand on the crystal doorknob and stared at Bonnie with his mouth hanging open.

She was wet and warm from the shower, skin sleek with water with a fluffy white towel tied around her.

"Hi…I'm sorry I didn't uhm…" he stammered, his eyes dropping to her chest where her hands clutched the bath towel tightly. He could tell that last night unsettled her. She didn't feel comfortable being in the same room as him.

"I'll go." He told her and cracked the door open again.

"Did we fuck up?" she said to his back making him stop.

Turning to face her, Damon asked "What?"

"You said last night wouldn't change anything but here we are. Did we fuck up?"

"I don't know about fucking up, but I do know that we sort of crossed enemy lines."

"Oh we went deep behind enemy lines. Very deep." She chuckled softly, shaking her head.

"We took know thy enemy to a whole new level." He agreed, hand still on the door handle, "but I liked the new level."

A smile tugged the corners of her lips when he admitted to that and he noticed the blush creeping into her cheeks. Fuck she looked sexy and so unaware of how sexy she was.

"We're in a real pickle." She finally said, pushing strands of damp hair behind her ears. She approached him slowly and cautiously as if he were a dangerous animal and Damon backed against the door, his back shutting the door when it pressed against it. A current passed between them, tense, waiting for one of them to move, to react and say something. Her mouth was inches from his, her breath fanning his skin. His eyes travelled from her shower-dampened hair to her scotching green eyes.

"That's sounds as sexy fuck." He murmured, lifting a hand to caress her cheek. She took a stuttering breath and quickly glanced down at the hand touching her then met his gaze again.

"Pickle?" she cocked an eyebrow, an amused smile crossing her lips.

"Fuck yes, "His gaze dropped to her lips, the soft inviting curves of her lips, "say it again."

"Pickle" she repeated and fisted her hands in his shirt, pulling him closer to her. He tipped her chin and kissed her slowly while her hands roamed his chest, bunching the material with her fists.

Damon drew back and looked at her, her parted lips, the lust in her eyes as they drifted closed. When he cupped her face in his hands again, her stomach clenched because she could sense the intent in his touch.

He wanted to make love her and she needed him to.

They gave themselves over to the kiss, losing themselves in it and when he broke the kiss again it was only to nibble his way down her neck. She arched her back, grabbed the waistband of his jeans and drew him closer to her. Her need for him was frantic fiery and as her towel fell to the floor, she found his zipper and jerked it down.

Somehow they found the bed, the back of her legs hitting something before he threw her on the mattress. Gone was the gentle seduction as their desire mounted. He barely had time to catch his breath as she pulled his shirt over his head, catching his nipples between her teeth. She explored every inch of him, hungrily like an animal let loose and Damon pulled back again to catch his breath. He pinned her to the bed feeling her body shake underneath him before kissing his way down her body. He licked and teased until he reached the apex of her thighs.

Casting a quick and delicious glance at her, he brushed a tongue over the outer lips of her cunt before grazing her clit. He slid the tip of his tongue inside her, then a finger, then two while she moaned. With anticipation quickening his blood, he grabbed her by her calves and pulled her to the edge of the bed so he would eat her properly. When he felt she was good, ready and wet for him, he picked her up and deposited her back in the centre of the bed.

Bonnie's lips sought his, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck, her legs around his waist. She stopped breathing as he slowly eased himself inside her but her heart, her heartbeat continued to hammer against her chest, her temples, her fingertips...her cunt.

Snared by her flesh, he fucked her with long fluid strokes and she met him stroke for stroke. Her legs parted wider, his hips thrusting deeper as she rolled to meet them.

Bonnie came with a muffled scream, his mouth over hers, feeding her breathe as much as she breathed him in. He shuddered his release, mouth open, hungry and crushing her mouth.

..

The weekend flew by in a blur of six hour conversations, lips tingling from salted glass rims, sunsets bleeding into a sparkling ocean and meat turning on the grill. It was a languid weekend filled with laughter and colour.

It was a weekend filled with passionate love making in the secret darkness of Caroline's guestroom.

..

On Monday they were back at the office and the place was charged with energy. Bonnie was filling her metal thermos with coffee when her phone rang in her pocket. She checked her phone screen and rechecked again to make sure that her eyes were not fooling her.

"Mom?" she answered, pressing the phone to her ear.

"Happy Labor day." Though her voice sounded airy and light, Bonnie could still sense the tension in it.

"A bit late but thank you." she replied and tried to organise her thoughts because it was unlike Abby to call her.

"How's the new job?"

Still puzzled, Bonnie replied "It's great."

Her mind started racing ahead, thinking where the conversation was going when her mother announced, "I want you to come to Washington with me."

"Washington DC?"

"More precisely the White House. They're having some mother daughter gala dinner and I am among the dignitaries that will be giving a speech."

"About female circumcision?"

"About human rights."

"When is this trip taking place?"

"In two weeks."

"Oh."

"I'll e-mail you with the details." She said then dropped the call before Bonnie could respond.

..

Bonnie was packing up for the evening when Katherine stuck head in her cubicle.

"What say you and me grab a drink?"

Bonnie smiled apologetically, "I don't know. I'm bushed."

"Come on we'll go to that shitty place across the office."

"Fine, shitty place across the office it is." Bonnie chuckled, shaking her head. She clutched her laptop bag and purse then grabbed her jacket and threw it over her arm.

Twenty minutes later they were sitting inside a quite, dimly lit bar talking about work.

"What were you doing, playing hide the sausage all weekend?" Katherine teased, nudging her with her elbow. Bonnie blushed at the change of subject, she shifted and took anther swallow of her drink.

"With Damon?" she spared Kat a quick look then stared back into her glass, "I don't date my co-workers." She shook her head and swirled the wine. They didn't share the same interests or even the same principals. On paper, Damon was just not a good fit but she couldn't deny the way he made her feel. Nor could she deny how great the sex had been in the Hamptons.

"Neither do I" Katherine smiled knowingly.

"What about Enzo?"

"I like him, we hang out and have fun." Katherine smiled and lifted her hand to beckon the bartender for another shot of scotch.

"Seems like someone had the right idea."

They both turned to find Anna walking toward them. She was dressed in blue jeans, a tee-shirt, tweed blazer and a dishevelled mop of hair. She looked like she'd had one hell of a day.

Three drinks later Anna was telling them about Jeremy and how happy he made her and shortly after that, Katherine gathered her things, drained her glass and slammed it back on the counter.

"I have dinner plans so I'm gonna run." Katherine slid off her stool and gave Bonnie's back a friendly pat.

"I've been offered a position in Atlanta." Anna said, starring down into her fourth drink.

"CNN?" Bonnie raised a questioning eyebrow.

Anna nodded, "Don't get too excited. It's a job as a research assistant but it's a start and it's CNN."

"Congratulations."

"I haven't accepted the offer yet."

Surprised, Bonnie asked "What's holding you back? Jeremy?"

"I'm not gonna lie and say he doesn't factor into my decision."

She had not pegged Anna as the type of woman who would prioritise her relationship over her career. It was so cliché, a woman choosing a man over an amazing career.

"You realize that if you don't take this opportunity and it doesn't work out with the two of you, you're going to despise him right?"

"Bonnie I-"

"Would Jeremy do the same were he in your position?"

"I don't want to turn this in to some gender equality thing or what he would have done were he in my position. This is about me being happy. Trust me, I am taking that job. I'm just trying to decide if I want him to come with me because long distance relationships never work." she prattled then took a breath, closed her eyes and half-smiled looking at Bonnie again.

"Am I selfish if I ask him to come away with me? I mean I'd be asking him to give up a job I know he loves, his friends…" Anna trailed off, took a sip of her wine then circled the rim with her finger.

She lifted her eyes to Bonnie again and asked, "What would you do if you were in my position?"

"I'd leave and never look back." Bonnie lifted her shoulders in a shrug and then realizing how cold her response seemed, said "Anna, do what makes sense for you. Do what makes you happy."

..

"I was thinking about leading with the piece about marines undergoing sensitivity training in preparation for female integration?" Damon asked over the blissful sounds of John Coltrane's saxophone. The scent of grapes and chocolates wafted through the air as he refilled her glass. It was her second; she counted and glanced at it as he set it back down on the cluttered coffee table. It was three days since their return from the Hamptons and she'd been avoiding the topic of their scandalous weekend like a plague.

"What are you going to touch on, the high percentage of women failing basic training or the fact that the marines are lowering their standards by adjusting their training methods to accommodate women?" she lifted an eyebrow and toed off her shoes.

"Do you think that's what I think?" he shot her a glance while he refilled his own glass.

Picking up her wine she took a long sip before saying, "You're allowed an opinion, Damon. That's the whole point of the column. Or we could lead with a refugee piece."

"You think this is a jab on feminism."

"Are you asking me or telling me?" she cocked her head to the side and smiled.

"I'm telling you." He stopped pouring the wine and looked at her.

They were silent for a moment with him studying her with a mix of need and longing. Her pulse hastened and her skin burned with remembrance. She knew what she was thinking because she was thinking the same thing.

She wanted him butt naked on the damn couch. She wanted to tangle her fingers in his dark unruly hair, get lost in his intense blue eyes only to find herself in his sensuous lips.

But she couldn't do that again. Damon was a co-worker and she didn't date co-workers.

"Can we get back to the refugees?" she finally broke their intense gaze and the thick silence that went along with it. She quickly drained her glass motioned to her notepad.

"Is there unfair treatment for refugees of darker coloring?" she rambled on, reading off the notes she'd made, "Can America afford a refugee program? How do you distinguish between economic migrants and refugees?"

"Are we gonna talk about the weekend?" he asked, his jaw setting stubbornly.

"What about the weekend?" She reached for her glass before remembering that it was empty.

"We made love. Are we gonna talk about it?" his voice was husky, making her skin tingle. She swallowed and tore her gaze away from the laptop on the table. Her eyes were soft and moist, her heart beating widely against her chest. He's so gorgeous she thought taking in his stubble and the bob of his adam's apple as he waited for her to say something.

"Do you believe in marriage?" she asked and her voice sounded steadier than she felt.

Damon dragged in some air into his lungs and asked, "Are the two things related?"

"Just answer the question." She ordered.

"Well It's the American dream right, two kids, a husband, a dog and a picket fence?" he sighed, leaning back against the couch with his arms spread.

"Are you concerned about Stefan and Rebekah?" she looked at him curiously.

"Marriage is complicated." He set his glass back on the table between them.

"So are a lot of things." Bonnie crossed her legs and angled her body toward his, "You don't think he's up for the challenge?" she asked.

"Stefan's always had a big heart." He rose from his chair and stood over her. Bonnie looked up at him, her heart hammering against her chest. He smelled heady and masculine, a concoction that would be her undoing.

"What are you doing?" she asked in a stunned whisper. Her hoarse voice belied her composure. Her mind was completely paralyzed. She was transfixed by him and when he parted her legs with his knee a shiver rippled through her.

Slowly she gripped the hem of his shirt and tugged him closer to her, wetting her lips. Damon kept his gaze locked with hers as he unbuttoned his shirt one button at a time. Impatiently she reached out to touch him but he caught her hands in time and shook his head. She had to learn to be patient. He unzipped the fly of his jeans, one tine at a time and then took her hand and slid it into his jeans where it could grasp his stiff cock. Then he bent down to kiss her, gripping both sides of her face and tasted the tang of wine lacing her plump lips.

"I need you, "she begged, panting.

"You're so damn sexy." he said wrapping his fingers in her hair and pulling her head back to give his mouth access to her neck. The pulse at her neck raced beneath his lips and he traced the tendons in her neck with his teeth. When her hand curled behind her neck, he pulled her legs round him, hoisted her up from the couch and carried her upstairs to the bedroom.

They toppled onto the bed and Bonnie quickly rolled him over until she was straddling his thighs. Her hands, planted in the middle of his chest held him firmly in place as her teeth scraped across his skin. Her mouth sucked on his flesh as she kissed her path down toward his groin and his breaths evolved into groans of pleasure. She paused to reach back and undo her bra then tossed it at him with a laugh. Damon's hands quested up her thighs, over her hips and onto her ass, drawing her closer to him until her nipples were grazing his chest. Then threading his fingers back into her hair, he kissed her hungry and eagerly. They were at the cusp of their arrival, kissing feverishly and without abandon. He seized her waist and rolled her around the bed till he covered her, his mouth open and hungry over hers.

"I wanna fuck you from behind." he ordered and she eagerly assumed the position, sinking down on her knees, chest pressed flat on the mattress and her ass high in the air, waiting...anticipating. He traced his fingers along her ass cheeks and she sighed her arousal. She wanted him desperately and couldn't wait. He positioned himself behind her and fingered her panties, pulling the crotch aside, teasing at her opening with his fingers.

"Take it off, please take it off." she pleaded, so aroused she was unable to form a sentence.

Slowly he peeled off the scrap of lace and gave her ass a light spanking that set every nerve ending alight. She heard him rip open a condom and closed her eyes, her mouth watering with anticipation.

At the back of her mind she thought back to the Hamptons and about how they hadn't used a condom the first night, about how quickly they pushed that aside and how she took a morning after pill the minute she got back to Manhattan. The touch of his cock against opening quickly dispelled all thoughts of their risky weekend and brought her to the present, his hard dick sliding into her inch by delicious inch at a time.

She wanted it rough but she didn't want to ask for it didn't want to say it, didn't want him to know that she wanted to be fucked without abandon because she wanted someone else to take charge for once.

His hands circled around her waist, pulling her closer to him until the globes of her ass slammed against him, his dick tunnelling into her slick heat.

"Please don't stop!" Bonnie panted, he felt gigantic and devastatingly divine from this position. She wanted him to use her, command her, fuck her until she came and as she impaled herself onto his cock she knew se would come soon and it would be a monster.

"You like that?" He pumped harder into her, coaxing her sopping wet clit with his thumb. Damon felt her tighten around his cock. He reached for her face, made her turn around and kissed her. The stroke of his tongue against hers, the feel of his warm skin against hers took her over the edge until she convulsed against him, legs shaking with her cunt clutching his cock.

After making love, they lay still, their breathing fast and heavy, their hearts racing. With his eyes closed, Damon pulled her closer to him and kissed the top of her head. His heart beat strong under her finger tips and she was keenly aware of her own heart beat. The tender closeness she felt for him at that very moment terrified her. She had no interest in a broken heart and from what she could tell he was an expert at breaking them.

"Where did you learn to fuck like that?" she purred instead, walking her fingers across his chest before nipping at his shoulder. A satisfied smile spread itself across Damon's face but before he could say anything, Bonnie's cell phone rang.

She checked the caller ID, it was Kai Parker. Her heart kicked hard against her chest. He sure had perfect timing. She thought twice about taking the call. Would it seem rude if she took a call from Kai right after making passionate love with Damon?

"I'm gonna take a shower." She said, easing the covers off and getting out of bed.

Damon watched as she walked into the adjoining bathroom with her cell phone and close the door behind her.


	8. Filial Cannibalism

Damon untangled his legs from the sheets and swung them off the bed. He stood staring at the closed bathroom door in awe. He couldn't believe what had just happened and so he listened for the hiss of a shower but heard nothing.

He chuckled, shaking his head and swiped his jeans off the floor. She had some nerve, taking a call from Parker after a session like that. He was scouting the floor for his shoes when he heard the door click open.

"You wanna call in for some Chinese?" Bonnie asked, appearing at the doorway.

"Clearly I've overstayed my welcome." he huffed, grabbing the last item from the floor. He could sense her eyes widening at the scene.

"What're you doing?" she asked alarmed and advanced toward him, "I don't understand why you're so upset."

"You understand why I'm so upset? I mean if you feel the need to take calls from another man under the guise of taking a shower then…"

"It was a perfectly innocent bloody phone call." She flung back.

"Then why couldn't you answer it in front of me?"

"I'm not gonna justify myself to you. Why are we even discussing this?"

"Because we just fucked Bonnie! "We just fucked."

"Exactly, fucked being the operative word here!"

A muscle jumped in his jaw and rather than retaliate, he spun around and bolted out the bedroom.

Grabbing his arm, she pulled so he could look back at her, "So you have a problem with me seeing other people while we have our lil fuck fest?"

He freed his arm from her grasp and loped down the stairs. Breathless, she ran down the stairway and followed him into the living room. In three long strides she was behind him, her hand around his arm, spinning him around and forcing him to face her.

"Are you jealous?" she asked, a trace of amusement in her voice

"No. Disappointed." he said in a clipped tone.

She sighed, dropped her hands to her hips and said, "Look we're both tired. It's been a long night. Maybe we should stop before one of us says something stupid."

He held up his hand to stop her, "Too late."

He walked out and shut the door behind him. Rushing through the lobby, past her doorman, he dived into the cool evening air and took long inhales. A brisk wind chided his cheeks, rifling through his hair and he turned his collar up, hugging the jacket tighter around him.

His chest was still heaving from all the emotions he felt as he thrust his hand up to hail a taxi. Risking a look over his shoulder, his spirits sank even lower when he discovered that she had not attempted to go after him. He simply wasn't important enough to her.

He needed her to need him. It wasn't an ego thing but he just couldn't settle for less. If she was still hung up on Kai Parker then he wanted nothing to do with her. A man who'd invited her to his place, made a show of cooking for her and he had clearly left an impression if she was still willing to take his calls.

He ducked his head and climbed into the taxi that had pulled up in front of him.

Here he was and he couldn't even boil an egg. Damon shook his head. Sure, she didn't want a relationship but he did and his feelings had to count for something. Damn her for making him second guess himself. He was unused to the emotions that coursed through him.

..

They barely exchanged ten words to each other at the office the following day. When she wasn't pecking away on her laptop she listened to the hum of the office, sipped her coffee and stole an occasional glance at Damon whose fingers were flying over the keys on his laptop.

..

"You coming to the party next week?"

"What party?" Bonnie asked as she picked up a bottle of water from the vending machine. She untwisted the cap and took three swigs.

Kat slotted a few coins into the machine and selected a can of soda "Damon's birthday party. Ric throws his prize bull a party every year like clockwork. It's nothing too big but hey, I mean who's gonna say no to free beer on a work night? It's an excuse to come to the office with a massive hang-over."

She bent down to retrieve the can as it thudded out "Not that this lot needs an excuse to drink."

"I don't know, I might be busy." Bonnie mumbled back, taking another sip. A part of her felt hurt that he hadn't bothered to disclose this fact to her but then could she really blame him?

"You don't even know what day it's on." Kat eyed her suspiciously.

"Right. When is it?"

"Next week Friday."

"Too bad. I'm flying out to DC Friday night. My mom's invited me to some gala dinner where she'll be giving a speech." She sounded relieved even as she said it.

It wasn't a lie and she was grateful to have an excuse. She still felt guilty about taking that call from Kai. The conversation with him had been innocent at best, all they talked about was how sorry he was he hadn't called sooner, how they should meet again to which she had promised to call him.

All innocent. No funny business but she still felt guilty.

Maybe Damon was right. Perhaps she had been a little bit too insensitive. She had her walls up with Damon, no doubt about but could he blame her with his history?

..

The takeout bag hung off the crook off her elbow as she climbed up the stairs. It had been three days since she made love to Damon and they still hadn't really spoken aside from cordial conversation at work. He'd been avoiding her like a plague and she didn't blame him. It's not like she'd gone the extra mile to explain herself but now she was ready.

She hesitated outside his door and smoothed her hair back over the collar of her trench coat. Her hand poised to knock on the door then pulled it back, clenching it into a fist. She tugged the waistband of her skinny jeans, pulled down the hem of her slouchy cashmere sweater and adjusted the chain-link strap of her Chanel purse before finally making contact with the door.

Minutes later she heard the chain being raised and then the door cracked open an inch. His head poked out and he threw the door open, allowing her to step inside.

"Hey." she greeted him.

"Hi." He cocked an eyebrow, looking at her expectantly.

Her gaze swept over him, noting the ratty looking t-shirt stretched over his shoulders and the gray sweatpants slung low over his hips.

"I was in your neighbourhood picking up some Korean." she gestured to the takeout bag in her hand. She felt her palms sweat and was surprised that her voice betrayed none of the nervousness she felt.

"Long way for a meal." He smiled, tilting his head to the side so he could better access her.

"Are you gonna invite me in? The food's getting cold."

Shaking his head, he took the takeout bag from her, helped her out of her coat and turned to place both down on a nearby counter. Her eyes flitted down to his ass and she quickly looked away, feeling guilty for having admired the globes of muscled ass without his consent.

"How did you know where I stayed?" he asked, looking at her over his shoulder.

"I might have looked through your employment files. It's not a crime."

"Actually it is. It's called stalking." he turned, hands on his hips and half smiled. The placement of his hands made her eyes wander to his hips again and down to his groin where she could see his dick print through the fabric.

Clearing her throat, she shut her eyes, whipped her head to the right so she could look away from him and quickly said "I'm sorry about the other night. I'm sorry that I took that call. It was a spectacularly stupid move from my part. I was a huge-"

"Dick. Jerk-ass. Pompus jerk?"

"Ok. I get the idea. I was awful and you hate me."

"I don't hate you." he said with a kindness she felt like she didn't deserve.

She was suddenly aware that he'd closed the gap between them and that the hallway was barely big enough to fit both of them. His breath slowed while hers kicked up a notch. His eyes locked into her hers, saying more than words ever could. She was itching to touch him but she held back and when he turned, she manoeuvred past a stack of books lining one wall and followed him into the apartment. She surveyed the space, the framed photos on the small wall unit, the political books filling a bookshelf and the kitchen visible from the living room where they stood.

The living room boasted a ceiling fan fixed above a distressed leather couch, no pillows, a gray area rug and a coffee-table that looked like it had been salvaged from a garage sale. Sitting atop the table were a few Political magazines, an open lap-top and an open beer. His sliding door opened to a tiny balcony and she could see the sunset reddening the rooftops.

His place looked lived-in.

This surprised her because she had expected a more modern apartment, sleek and cold because she never figured him to be the type that was closely tied to things.

"Nice place."

"Thanks."

She looked down at her feet momentarily, fidgeting with the strap of her bag, and caught a glimpse of his bare feet before looking back up to his face.

Clearing her throat, she said "I might have had preconceived ideas about you coming into this but even you didn't deserve the way I treated you."

"You know what I want and you know how I feel about you."

"And yet I can't trust that you've never felt this way before. You have a reputation around the office."

"You're right, you can't and I suppose I do. You're scared and I get it." he nodded, his gaze bold and direct, "I don't want you to agree to something you don't want to agree with."

"When have you ever known me to do that?" she smiled hesitantly.

"I don't want to date anybody else and I don't want you seeing anybody else but me."

"I wanna keep things low-key." She countered.

"Got it."

"I'm not saying no to monogamy. I just wanna keep whatever we have going on here low key for now."

"Like I said, got it."

They fell into silence and she felt the seconds tick by.

"You gonna offer me something to drink?" she finally asked.

"Sure." he ventured into the kitchen and picked up the bottle of wine she'd brought.

"You want some wine or beer?" he gestured to the table and to his opened bottle of beer.

"Uhm, beer would be great actually. Oh I also brought this as a peace offering."

"Whiskey." he smiled, his gaze sliding to the bottle in her hand.

"You don't have to open it now but I figured that it ought to do the trick."

..

Damn raised an eyebrow, "After much grovelling of course."

"But of course." She smiled, a blush creeping into her cheeks.

She looked damn good standing there in the slip of a sweater that advertised her nipples. He remembered them now, hard and puckered in his wet mouth. Even though every nerve in his body wanted to take her in his arms, make love to her and accept all her bullshit he wanted her to work for the apology.

"I don't think you've done enough grovelling. That move you pulled really hurt me." he said and surprised even himself with his gut-wrenching honesty.

"I'm sorry. I really do like you."

"But you just don't date your co-workers."

"No, evidently I just sleep with them." She grinned then looked down at her feet. She looked so open and vulnerable and it made him want her even more.

"Come on, food's getting cold." He heard himself speak and carried the takeout to the table in the living room. They opened the cartons and the smell of spicy Korean food filled the room. Damon's gaze swept across the dishes of Kimshi, pork bulgogi, dumplings and pickled vegetables.

She retrieved two sets of disposable chopsticks from the plastic bag and handed him a set. He pulled them apart and rubbed them against each other. Damon had been mad as hell when she'd taken that call from Parker but now sitting across from her, that anger was gone. He'd missed her. He'd missed this.

"I hear Ric is throwing you a little dinner party this Friday." she said using her chopsticks to shovel a pile of vegetables onto her plate.

"It's more like a small barbeque."

"Why didn't you tell me it was your birthday?"

"Why does it matter? What would that have changed?"

"I don't know."

"I know you'll be out of town."

"You do?"

"A little bird told me."

Bonnie shook her head and rolled her eyes, assuming the bird he was referring to was Katherine.

"Listen, go to Washington. You need this time with your mother."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm a big boy, Thatcher. I don't need you to hold my hand while I blow out the candles." he said, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Come with me." She suddenly offered, her eyes dancing with the sheer brilliance of the idea.

"Is this you keeping things low-key?"

"This is me being a fly by the seat of her pants kinda girl."

A flick of tongue swiped at the sauce on his lips and he smiled "You're a list girl. There's no changing that."

"Indulge me."

"I'll think about it."

"You promise?"

"I promise."

..

When the meal was finished and a six pack of beer polished, he walked her to the door and handed her her coat.

"I have a great time, "she purred, her eyes sliding down his face to pause on his lips.

"Thanks for the food." He opened the door and groaned as he brushed up against her.

Shutting the door with her back, they heard it click as she whispered "Anytime."

"Bon-"

She didn't let him finish, pulling his mouth to hers, she drove him to the nearest wall and his breath went in a sharp intake as his back collided with it. She grabbed his shirt and tore it off his body. Her kiss was hard and hungry as she threw her arms around his neck.

"I have to be at the airport in an hour so we have exactly thirty minutes?" she arched an eyebrow, her hands undoing the buttons of her jeans.

They continued to kiss as they as he steered her backward toward the bedroom. They stumbled but clung desperately to the kiss, falling into each other on top of the bed. She climbed his body, sliding onto him and planted her hands on his chest. She began to ride him, emitting a moan with every thrust of her hips and Damon fastened his hands around her hips so that he could control the movement.

He thrust into her slowly, savouring each stroke and watched he watched her face as she sighed to their rhythm.

He cried out her name as he climaxed.

She came just after he did, good but not as intense as she had wanted. Too much on her mind.

..

They lay in bed, turned towards each other, battered and spent. Then she slinked off the mattress and picked her bra and panties up off the floor. She padded barefoot to the lounge and retrieved her shoes from the rug, next to the coffee table laden with empty take-out cartons.

Damon poured himself a glass of water from the tap and offered her one.

"I gotta go." She said, nodding toward the door. She was already fully dressed and swiped her purse off the counter.

"You're something else." he chuckled, shaking his head.

"What do you mean?"

"No, just."

"Uhm, Oh. Kay."

"One minute you blow hot, the next you blow cold."

"I'm not cold; I just have to rush to the airport. If you want, "she said taking an airline ticket out of her purse, "you can join me. I'm hoping you consider it. It'll be fun."

She offered him the ticket but when he didn't budge from his position by the sink, she left it on the counter and walked out of his apartment.

..


	9. Mother Knows Best

Damon stared at the plane ticket on the counter and willed himself to move. He pushed off the sink and picked it up.

The flight was departing from JFK at ten in the evening and landing in DC around eleven the same night. Picking up his beer, he drank it in one swallow in an effort to dissolve the hurt and frustration he felt. He felt deflated like she'd taken the wind out of his sails again.

He rummaged through the pile of cartons for leftovers and discovered none. Then as pent-up frustration with himself flared, he rummaged through the kitchen cabinets until he unearthed a packet of chips. He loaded a handful of chips into his mouth and chewed violently.

Brushing the crumbs off his shirt, he grabbed his phone and scrolled don the names on his contact list. He was falling apart and had to get it together. He checked the time, eight o'clock, still relatively early for a Thursday night. He was tempted to go out for a drink and let off a little steam but he didn't feel like nursing a drink in some bar, having a conversation he didn't want to have while the world carried on around him.

..

As the plane neared Reagan National airport, she felt a surge of reluctance. She grabbed her bag from the overhead compartment, readjusted her cashmere travel blanket into a chunky scarf around her neck and filed out of the plane toward the exit.

An hour after departing New York, her sneakers were slapping against the cement, bag in tow and she was breathing the DC air. She made a beeline for the taxis outside and hopped into one.

"The Jefferson Hotel." she said, sliding into the back seat.

While the cab navigated through airport traffic, she called Abby to get the details about her room at the hotel.

..

When the cab pulled up in front of the Jefferson Hotel, the doorman greeted her by tipping his hat and opening the door for her. A bellhop tried to assist her with her luggage but it was a small Louis Vuitton weekend bag and she didn't see the fuss.

After checking in, she made her way to her room, unpacked and took a moment to admire the magnificent city skyline from her window. She discarded her New York clothes, took a quick shower and changed into a black long-sleeve boat-neck dress that helped to enhance her curves.

..

Washington DC was abuzz with election fever. She could feel the electricity in the air as she entered the hotel bar. Her eyes scanned the meticulously dimmed space, sweeping past the business clientele dotting the space and located a long wooden bar with a display of high-end whiskies showcased in a backlit shelf behind it.

She dropped her light trench-coat across the stool on her right and placed her clutch bag on the bar-top. Signalling to the bartender, she ordered a dirty martini and settled back against the high back leather stool.

The martini was potent and gave her an immediate buzz. She rubbed the back of her neck to ease the tension of the flight. Closing her eyes momentarily, she enjoyed the tinkling jazz coming from some invisible sound system and took another generous sip.

One of her sling-back stilettos dangled from her foot while she drank her drink and every now and then her eyes wandered to the plasma TV mounted over the bar. There was footage of army helicopters flying over Syria and an endless scroll of breaking news across the bottom of the screen.

She thought about calling Damon but didn't want to seem too eager. She wanted to play it cool, not too cool that he would tire of their push pull relationship but cool enough that he wouldn't think she was too clingy. Pulling her phone from her clutch, she sent a text instead and told him she'd landed and that she'd call him the next day to wish him a happy birthday.

She was slipping the phone back into her purse when she heard the voice, "Do you ski?"

She turned to he left and discovered an attractive Asian gentleman in a sharp looking business suit. Her gaze slid past his broad shoulders, taking in the clean cut of his outfit, his flawless skin and the thick head of black hair. The lighting showed off his features to marvellous effect but she wasn't interested. There was Damon now. Damon who made her laugh. Damon who made her skin tingle with just one look. Damon made her feel vulnerable, something she loved and loathed with equal measure. She felt a wave of heat at the recollection of their evening together.

"I beg your pardon?" she shook her head, bringing her thoughts to the present.

"Because you've got the legs for the sport." he drank her in, his dark eyes sweeping from her shapely legs to the tousled hair that lay around her shoulders.

All she wanted was to enjoy her solitary drink in peace. He took a drink from his glass and she watched as his chest swelled with confidence. He waited for his complement to register, clearly expecting positive feedback.

"Thank you but I'm not looking for any company tonight." she smiled and shifted her gaze back to the TV where the scene had changed to a burning building in Baghdad.

"Rough night?" he leaned in, one elbow on the counter.

When she failed to respond, he got the point.

"Enjoy the rest of your evening, "he said, lifting his glass to her.

After polishing off the rest of her drink, she shouldered back into her coat and tossed a few bills on the counter.

..

Bonnie was crossing the marble lobby heading to a bank of elevators that would take her to her room when she spotted Kai Parker.

"Of all the hotels in DC."

"Kai, what are you doing here?"

"Medical seminar. You?" his gaze swept over her, noting her beguiling dress under the coat.

"Gala dinner at the White house." she volleyed back.

"You win. Can I buy you dinner?"

Bonnie checked her watch, hesitant. As if sensing her reluctance, he quickly added, "I know this great place just around the corner. I hear it's got the best Woodstone pizza in DC."

..

They brushed past crowds of people flocking to bars to watch the presidential debate and the restaurants pumped out smells to attract diners. Bonnie caught a whiff of sweetly smoked chicken, basily lamb, garlic bread, fresh fragrant crab, lemon zest, plum and chocolate aromas from a decanting bottle of red wine, orange peel with hints of warm oak from a bottle of scotch and freshly brewed coffee.

A gaggle of beautiful women emerged from a Spanish eatery followed by the scent of flame cooked food and a trail of their perfumes. The sidewalk dining spots with heat lamps were brimming with diners swathed in blankets.

A leaf settled in her hair and he plucked it out as they spoke longingly of London.

"Table for two." Kai asked as they approached the entrance of a restaurant.

"Your name?" a brunette behind a host stand asked, her silver earrings rimming both ears.

"Parker, Kai Parker."

The host ran a leisurely finger down the reservation book, "I'm sorry but I don't see your name in the reservations."

"We don't have one."

"Then I'm gonna have to put you in the waiting list."

Kai nodded, "Can we have drinks at the bar while we wait for a table?"

"There's a waiting list for that too." she pointed to a scattering of people loitering on the sidewalk. Some were talking in pairs, talking on their phones, smoking and constantly checking over the shoulders to see if a table had opened up.

While waiting for a table they spotted a small gallery across from the restaurant and she suggested they have a look at a few pieces to pass time and to escape the cacophony of the street.

She told herself it meant nothing as they wandered through the gallery. It wasn't a date. She wasn't cheating on Damon. They were just two people who had run into each other by pure chance and had decided to share a meal. She looked at the leaflet in her hands, the exhibition was appropriately titled, _The Politics of progress._ It was showcasing feminist art on social issues with work by artist from all over the US.

..

The TV screens mounted around the bar were all tuned onto Fox News and the presidential town hall debate between David Taylor and Hillary Clinton. Candles flickered inside small glass cups as they ate their meal. The menu was a play on memorable election moments which the waitress cheerfully described.

She waited for the waitress to leave their table then took a quick breath and said, "I'm seeing someone."

It felt strange saying it aloud, owning it. It had been like a shame she'd worn like a scarlet letter, embarrassed to admit her growing feelings for Damon. She'd been ashamed of feeling anything for anybody especially a man like Damon.

Kai regarded her, "Do I know him?"

"Do you really know anyone in New York? I mean it's been barely two months since you moved from London."

"Touche." he smiled and took another bite.

They washed the pizza down with a bottle of good Italian wine and called it a night.

..

"If a tree fell in a forest and no one was around to hear it, does it make a sound?" Damon asked pushing open the door to the coffee shop and out into the rush of the city.

"What?" Stefan wasn't listening. He was too concerned about the smoker they had fallen behind of when they joined the sea of pedestrians on the sidewalk. As soon as they made it past him, they came in contact with a knot of tourists, cameras in hand, eyes gawking up at the skyscrapers.

"Never mind." he waved it off, shaking his head.

"Rebekah's parents are in town."

"Oh yeah, that's big"

"It is. I want make a good impression, you know. So...I'm uh cooking dinner for them. I thought that would be a nice touch."

"You mean instead of taking them out for an expensive dinner like a typical future son-in-law?"

"Hey, come on. I've met someone that I want to spend the rest of my life with and I guess I got to go the extra mile to impress the people most important to her."

"The rest of your life sounds so final." Damon said after swallowing a mouthful of coffee.

Leaves crunched underfoot as they walked into a neighbourhood grocery store. Yards of shelves were stacked with fresh ravioli, linguini, olive oil and canned tuna imported from Italy.

"I love her." Stefan simply said and picked two boxes of spinach ravioli and three jars of marinara sauce. They passed a selection of imported cheeses, rustic Italian bread, long filoni loaves, puffy buns topped with rosemary and garlic as they made their way toward the register.

Love, Damon thought was such a complicated concept.

..

Bonnie braced herself to see her mother. Being around Abby always felt awkward, the conversation felt forced and the intimate hugs were few and far in-between. She only remembered two lingering hugs between them; the day she graduated high school and the day she graduated from Oxford. They simply didn't hug each other and such intimate moments between them felt uncomfortable at best.

Abby was speaking at a breakfast for the women's leadership coalition. Bonnie stood at the entrance, idling. Then moving forward, she smiled with uncertainty as she made her way down the aisle to an available seat. Curious glances followed in her wake as her mothers' voice boomed from the front.

Once she settled in her seat, she listened to the speech about what it meant to be a feminist in America.

Abby gazed around the room during her speech, pausing for dramatic effect whenever the script called for it. When she finished the crowd broke into thunderous applause

..

Abby had requested that they meet for lunch at Dine, a nouveau-rustico Italian eatery in Georgetown.

She followed the hostess as they weaved around tables littered with lunch crowds and harried serves toting around small white entrées plates and more appropriately sized plates for the main courses. The tables were set with cream-colored cloths and sparkling china. Soft music steamed from hidden speakers but it still failed to relax her.

Abby stood up from her chair as Bonnie approached the table. They exchanged a handshake and a quick smile before taking their seats.

"Tell me about the column." Abby said once they had ordered their drinks, a dirty martini for Bonnie and a shot of whisky for her.

"Well we write about politics, government, social issues uhmm...breaking news and share our commentary on political affairs."

"Hm...and you share your byline?"

Bonnie reached for her glass and took a sip, buying herself time being responding to her mother, "Yes."

"Whose idea was that?"

"My boss."

"I still think you should've gone into law, you wasted that opportunity. Did you know that there was a group of lawyers who went down to Congo to try and establish a rule of law to combat rape?"

"I didn't know that." She replied, sounding flat.

"Christ you could have been an immigration lawyer or human rights lawyer and did more good than this... this blog."

Bonnie sighed with resignation and glanced around the room looking for something of interest. She'd had this conversation with Abby far too many times.

"You shouldn't have quit your blog. At least there your voice was your voice." Her mother said casually, her eyes skimming through the wine list.

"I still have a voice at Whitmore Magazine." She drained the last mouthful of her martini and considered ordering another around but her mother was already beckoning the server.

"Well it's certainly not the _Times._ This byline you're sharing is your contract structured the same as hers?"

"His, "she quickly corrected, "and I don't know. I never asked because I was too concerned with my own career."

The server, notepad in hand took their orders, two pasta dishes and a bottle of red wine.

After the server left, Abby turned to her and said, "Well you should be worried and you should be concerned because women are nearly always at a disadvantage when it comes to gender wage gaps. "

"Maybe I just like my job mom, maybe it isn't about the salary."

"Now you're starting to sound like a child and an ill informed one at best. Your father and I taught you better than that. It's not about if you're happy with your salary, it's the principle. Closing the gender age gap is the key to income equality...or at least one of the keys. You can bet your bottom dollar he has a better contract even though you're far more qualified."

Bonnie swallowed the knot in her throat and asked "Have you actually read my column?"

"I haven't had the time but your column is no victory for women. It just perpetuates the belief that women cannot do a stellar job without the assistance of a man."

She groaned, she should have known better than to reach out to her mother, should've known better than to leave London for New York let alone DC. Abby would never change. She should've known better.

"Thank you, mother." she said instead.

"I'm just trying to help you open your eyes, see the bigger picture."

After some time the server brought out entrée sized plates for their main course. Angel hair pasta with shrimp, sundried tomatoes, pesto and white wine sauce for Abby and spaghetti tossed with olive oil, garlic, chilli peppers, parsley and fresh mussels for Bonnie.

"The 1989 Carruades de Latife, "The sommelier presented the wine and Abby checked the label, giving him a nod. He uncorked it with a flourish then offered them the cork for inspection.

Having left the table, Abby picked up her glass by the stem and looked over at her daughter. The mood was tens, the only sound on their table coming from the clatter of cutlery on china as Bonnie dived into her food. She applied herself to her dish with zeal because it gave her something to do with her mouth rather than talk to her mother.

..


End file.
